Caught
by i-have-a-llama-army
Summary: When Thranduil and Legolas's reunion after the Quest is interrupted and Legolas is taken captive, will he be able to fight the pain in his past long enough to be saved?
1. Ada!

_A/N: I know, I know, this was one of the choices for the poll about what story I should write next on my profile. But I couldn't resist! I just really needed to write this story._

_Disclaimer: I don't own the LotR. Why would I be writing fanfics about it if I owned it? (This disclaimer applies for both this fic and "Hello", because I forgot last time…-_-.)_

Chapter 1

The Fellowship, if they had not had to face the perils they did, would not have bonded as strongly. However, maybe facing all the dangers in the world were worth it to get such a diverse group as friends.

It was thus that Gimli son of Gloin mused as he and two of the most important friends he made on the Quest travelled along the wooden paths of what was once the most beautiful or elven realms. Greenwood the Great, once brought into shadow and shamed by the name of Mirkwood, was finally growing back to what it once had been, not that he had been there to witness its original glory.

Legolas, the only member of the Fellowship who was a native to these strange lands, was nowhere to be seen. The minute he had entered the realm he had disappeared into the trees of his homeland, and had not been heard from since.

"It may be a good idea to stop and rest," Aragorn said. "We are only a few hours from Thranduil's palace, but without Legolas accompanying us I fear we shall not be welcomed as warmly. It would do us good to wait for him here."

"Aye," Gimli said, before frowning. "But I have once concern. Getting off this stupid horse by myself may be a challenge." He was not ashamed to admit this because, over their time spent together, Aragorn would already know this, he was sure.

Aragorn dismounted easily off his own stallion and came over to Gimli.

"Come, Master Dwarf," he said, holding a hand out. "I shall aid you."

"Do you know who you sound like?" Gimli grumbled as he was lifted off the horse and placed gently on the ground. "The elf. 'Master Dwarf' this and 'Master Dwarf' that."

"Ah, _Master Dwarf,_ I did not know you were so easily offended."

Aragorn and Gimli whipped around in surprise at the new voice, only to find their elven companion standing before them, grinning.

"Ah, Legolas! We were just stopping to wait for you," said Aragorn.

"I know," said Legolas, still grinning.

"You know? How could you know, laddie? You've been up in them trees all day long," Gimli said, noting that Aragorn was getting ready to start moving again, now that Legolas had appeared. How was he going to get back on that stupid horse?

Legolas lifted Gimli up smoothly onto the horse, noting his friend's predicament, before starting to mount the beast himself.

"Let us move swiftly, for we are not—" Aragorn began, but he was silenced by a hand that was slapped over his mouth. Looking down at the pale, slender fingers, he knew it was Legolas who had stopped him. His heart raced. Something was wrong.

Legolas's eyes scanned the trees and brush growing around them, but they found nothing, only the normal things in the forest. Everything was silent. What had alerted him? Something in his heart had told him something was near, but not who or what it was.

"I am sorry," he muttered after a few more minutes of tense silence. "I thought that I felt something. I must have been mistaken."

Gimli and Aragorn nodded, not entirely convinced. The prince had never been wrong before.

"So, Legolas, how will you greet your father?" asked Gimli as they began riding again. "You know, with the whole being royal thing?"

"Ah," said Legolas, placing a hand on his chin in thought. "I hadn't thought about it before. I will probably something along the lines of 'Well met, Vardar-nin, or my King. I have returned from my quest', if there are others around and I have to be formal. How does that sound?"

"Very offi—," said Gimli, before being cut off by Legolas abruptly stopping the horse and going rigid. Aragorn and Gimli fell silent one again as Legolas listened and looked intently.

"What did you hear, mellon-nin?" Aragorn asked quietly.

"I…I didn't hear anything, really, I felt something…in my heart…" he let his words drift off and he sat staring at the woods for a moment longer.

"I think I should go into the trees for a moment. I will be able to see around us better from up there," Legolas said, already dismounting before either of them replied. He vanished into a nearby tree without a sound.

Aragorn and Gimli only had to wait a few seconds, for the silence that had surrounded them was interrupted by a joyful cry.

"ADA!" a voice yelled, and in a flash Legolas dived out of the tree and out of sight behind another.

Aragorn grinned and put a hand on Gimli, who had a firm grip on his axe and was preparing to fight.

"Relax, Gimli," Aragorn said, still smiling and staring in the direction where their elvish friend had disappeared. "'Ada' means 'daddy' in elvish. It seems Thranduil has come to greet us."

Without another word, Aragorn began to run toward their friend, and when the elf came into view, he was being held close by anther elf, whose back was to them.

It was Thranduil, King of Mirkwood. He had tears running down his face, and he was holding his son tightly to his chest.

"Ion-nin," he whispered in elvish. "My Greenleaf, you have returned."

He could practically feel Legolas grinning at him against his chest.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Legolas said, words slightly muffled by his father's tunic. Thranduil paused and held his son at arm's length, examining him.

"No injuries?" he said disbelievingly. Legolas laughed, and the sound rang clearly throughout the clearing, and Thranduil couldn't resist hugging him again. His son, his elfling was finally home, finally safe.

Legolas smiled into his father's clothes, tears forming in his eyes. He pulled back after a moment, smiling blindingly at his father.

All of them saw the next few moments in slow motion. His son suddenly jolted forward, stumbling a step.

In the same moment, Thranduil felt a warm, sticky substance spray his face, and he recoiled in shock.

Aragorn gasped in surprise as he saw the blood spurt from his friend's shoulder and the arrow sticking out of it.

Gimli cried out as Legolas fell to his knees in surprise and pain.

It was the longest, most terrible moment in all of their lives.

"Un!" Legolas said in surprise as the numbness faded from his shoulder and it was replaced by an intense, burning pain. He felt the burning growing, leeching slowly down his arm. He gasped.

He heard his father yelling a battle cry and unsheathing his blade, rushing at the tree where the archer who had hit him was. Black spots danced before his vision.

Aragorn rushed over to him, taking his hand and squeezing it.

"Legolas, we need to get the arrow out as soon as possible," he said, trying to stay calm as he saw that his friend's face was scrunched up in pain and his breathing was rapid. The elf gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Gimli, come help me," Aragorn said, helping Legolas lay down. "Hold him down. This will hurt him, but you must not let go, do you understand? You _must not let go,_ no matter what happens." The dwarf nodded, face pale as he braced Legolas against the ground.

Aragorn took a deep breath, knowing that he was about to hurt his best friend, but it had to be done.

"One…" He said, gripping the arrow.

"Two," Legolas gasped, eyes squeezed closed.

"Three!" Aragorn said, yanking on the arrow shaft and feeling the blood begin pooling beneath his fingers. But he was completely unprepared for the bone-chilling scream that was wrenched from his friend's mouth.

Legolas, though he had vowed to himself not to, screamed out at the pain of the arrow leaving his body. He heard Aragorn say something about barbs on the arrow, making it more painful to remove, as he fought unconsciousness. Aragorn was pressing cloth against his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding.

Gimli paled at the sight of the blood pooling around his friend. He had never been particularly squeamish, but this was one of his best friends who was lying in the forest, bleeding.

Aragorn cursed, and Gimli looked up at him, and the blood soaking the cloth. There was something strange about it.

Some of the blood was black.

"Poison…" Aragorn murmured. "This isn't good."

"Estel! Dwarf!" a voice called from a few feet in front of them, and they saw Thranduil being overwhelmed by men, who had him surrounded on all sides. He met their strikes and was always a step ahead.

"How"—he blocked a sword and knocked a man off balance—"Is"—He finished the job, stabbing the man through the stomach.—"My"—he moved on to the next man.—"Ion!?"

"He has been poisoned, Hir Nin!" Aragorn called back, sighing in relief as the blood finally began to stop flowing. "We should get him back to the palace!"

"Noro lim! Bring him there, Estel! You must save him; I can't lose him so soon after getting him back!" Thranduil yelled almost desperately, parrying and slicing off the head off of another man.

Wasting no time, Aragorn scooped Legolas up off the ground. Legolas was losing consciousness, fast.

"Stay with me, mellon-nin," said Aragorn, and he turned to Gimli as he started to run. "Watch my back-"

"Master dwarf…" Legolas finished, giving a small smile between gasps for air.

Aragorn smiled down, worry shining in his eyes, as he ran. Legolas cringed as they ran over a particularly rough patch of earth, the movement jarring his shoulder.

"Halt!" a voice that sent chills up Gimli's spine called out, and he and Aragorn shared a look that showed they agreed: they would not stop. Never.

At least, that was until the owner of the voice, a commander leading a small group of men, caught up with them. One of the men leaped and grabbed Aragorn, holding a knife to his throat. As Aragorn was held back, Legolas was sent flying from his arms, landing with an audible thud on the soft earth.

"Why did you do that?" Aragorn yelled, looking at Legolas's limp form. "You are worsening his injuries!" The leader of the men ignored him, walking past him toward Legolas, who was struggling to get up, his fingers brushing the trunk of a nearby tree.

'_Please help me,'_ he said to it, practically begging. '_I do not know who these men are, but I know that they do not mean well for us.'_

'_I shall help you young one, fear not,'_ said the tree. Its roots came up to trip the man coming toward Legolas and grabbing his ankle. Meanwhile, the branches reached down and wrapped themselves around the waist of the prince of Mirkwood, lifting him up above the mortals.

"What the—?" several men said in their surprise, and Gimli gaped in amazement. He knew the elf could talk to trees, but this was more than he had ever imagined!

The tree cradled Legolas in its branches, and it and a few other trees around it began to send a trickle of energy into the prince, giving his the strength to stand. His right arm was useless, so he grabbed one of his twin knives with his left hand.

'_Hannon le, my friends,'_ he said to the trees. _'Your help is much appreciated.'_

'_Go fight for your friends, young one,'_ said the tree, lowering Legolas onto the ground far enough away that the men couldn't see him.

The men were arguing, he realized. He heard something about a tree tripping someone, and he allowed himself a smothered laugh. Stealthily sneaking towards the group. As soon as he was close enough, he used his knife and lunged at the man holding Aragorn and Gimli, killing him instantly.

"Laddie!" Gimli said in surprise. "How are you fighting? You were practically dead!" He had a look of utter astonishment on his face.

"Trees give me power!" Legolas said as he began to defend against another man, and Aragorn and Gimli jumped into the fight as well.

It was many minutes later that, between fighting two men, Legolas had the chance to look for his friends. He had moved away from them by a surprising distance in the midst of the battle, and yet he couldn't get back, because he was surrounded. Every time he tried to surpass the men and reach his friends again, he was pushed back even further.

Eventually, his friends were out of sight and he stopped trying to find his way back to them.

'_As soon as I get rid of these last few men, I can probably make it back without much trouble,'_ he thought as he came into a small clearing.

Finally killing the last man, he paused for a moment, breathing heavily, before leaning down to wipe off the blood on his knife.

"Don't move," a voice hissed, and he felt cold steel against his throat. Turning his head slightly to glimpse the man who had caught him unawares, he could not stop the fear that flooded his eyes when he recognized him, nor the cry so similar to that of earlier that escaped his lips.

"ADA!"

_A/N: Oooh, dramatic cliffy! I hope you all liked it, I will probably update by…Friday, at the latest. I'm really busy tomorrow, but I will probably get it written Thursday, and hopefully posted. If not it will be up by Friday._

_Please review! More reviews=faster updates! :D_


	2. Eyes of Glass

_A/N: Hi guys! I'm back to save you from the word's worst villain: the cliffhanger, ha ha. Well, I shall waste no more time. On with the story!_

_Disclaimer: See chapter 1._

Chapter 2

Thranduil's blood ran cold at the sound of his son's voice, ringing clear and shrill through the trees.

"ADA!"

He couldn't take it anymore. He picked up the pace at which he was fighting, easily dispatching the last few men in a single vigorous attack. He began to sprint towards the sound, his heart pounding in his chest, but it wasn't from exertion.

The last time Legolas had sounded that terrified…

No. No, it couldn't be. That was over a millennia ago.

"Ada!" the cry came again, even more desperate. His heart clenched, and he flew even faster over the ground. He soon caught up to Estel, the mortal friend of Legolas that he had never truly approved of, and the dwarf, who he knew that his son would know he would hate by default.

However, they were now all in the same mind because of their share goal: get to Legolas, and do it _fast._

Thranduil burst into the clearing ahead of Aragorn and Gimli, taking in the sight of his ion, being held in the grasp of a man with piercing green eyes. Thranduil gasped.

"A-ada…" Legolas said, the knife held against his neck pricking his skin in a show of power.

"Y-you!" he sputtered, and he felt anger bubbling inside him at the sight of a thin trickle of blood running down Legolas's throat.

"Let go of him!" he said, lunging at him just as Estel and the dwarf entered the clearing, puffing and panting behind him. "You shall never touch him again!"

Aragorn frowned. Why had Thranduil said "again"? Where had Legolas met this man before?

_Legolas did live long before I ever did,_ he reminded himself. _Probably an old enemy._

The man glanced up at Aragorn, his green eyes not the color of the leaves, as Legolas had once said his mother's to have been, but instead a more cold color. He suddenly flashed back to a few minutes after hearing his friend's haunting backstory, to the final words the elf had said.

_They were standing together on the balcony outside of the room Legolas stayed in whenever he came to Rivendell. Said prince was leaning on the railing, his hand cradling his chin. He had sorrow in his eyes when he turned his head so that Aragorn could see him past the veil of golden hair he used as defense so often._

_"Sometimes, I have nightmares, Estel. Sometimes I can feel it in my soul: he may no longer watch me, but his eyes do. They have the power to make me crumble like a scared elfling, for I was one when I saw him looking at me with those blasted eyes." He shivered._

_"Someday, he will come for me. I don't know how, but his eyes still roam Arda, I feel it."_

Aragorn's eyes widened in shock.

The eyes were just as Legolas had said those of his and his mother's captor were. Aragorn shivered unconsciously under the gaze, and the man grinned.

Right before Thranduil could reach him, the man took off in the opposite direction, causing the elvenking to stumble when instead of a body he ran into empty air. As soon as he regained his balance, he began to run again.

"Estel! Gloinion! Hurry! We must get Legolas from that _monster_!"

Gimli and Aragorn joined the chase and ran after Thranduil. As he ran, Aragorn pulled his bow off his back and drew an arrow. However, he couldn't get his aim sure enough to make absolutely certain he wouldn't hit Legolas. He couldn't take the chance. If he received another wound, his friend would surely die.

Gimli ran beside his friend, panting like a dog but refusing to stop. They had to get to Legolas!

They heard the clashing of swords a few hundred meters ahead of them, so the man and dwarf ran as fast as they could for the final leg of their sprint, worry for their friend fueling their speed.

It was known to all that there was a center to every forest. In most cases, this was the densest, thickest part of the woods. Mirkwood, however, was not one of those cases.

The center of the forest, in this case, was the largest clearing in the woods. There was a small stream running through the right side of it, and the sunlight filtered deceptively beautifully through the trees around the sides. It was the very definition of peace, despite the conflict going on within it.

Thranduil attacked the man with such ferocity that they were sure that he would overpower Legolas's captor, but the man was quite skilled. Aragorn took barely any notice of the fight, however, and he ran to where Legolas was lying, having been dropped none too lightly on the ground, by the looks of it. He was struggling to sit up.

"Legolas!" Aragorn said, running and kneeling by his elven friend. "Are you all right, mellon-nin?" Gimli joined them.

Legolas looked up at them, eyes telling of his terror, and didn't respond. He merely continued to try and sit up, failing miserably.

"T-trees…" he stuttered, motioning to the ones surrounding the clearing. Aragorn saw what he wanted and picked him up easily, carrying him so he would not be able to see the fight between his father and the man in his nightmares. Gimli followed and helped to block the elf's view.

Placing Legolas gently on the ground, Aragorn guided the prince's hand so that it was touching the bark of one of the trees.

Gimli watched in amazement as Legolas's fingertips began to glow where he was touching the tree. Legolas's face relaxed slowly, and his crystal blue eyes opened, seeming clear. He reached to touch the elf's arm and immediately was filled with a warm, pulsing sensation. Drawing his hand back in shock, he realized he was suddenly more alert.

He, a dwarf, had just gotten energy from a tree.

It was quite nice, actually.

Legolas blinked, and, realizing he was being carried, glared up at Aragorn. The ranger laughed, gently placing the elf's feet on the ground. The prince stood steadily, giving a smile of thanks to his friend, and laughing at the stunned look on Gimli's face.

Hearing the swords, Legolas turned, and before Aragorn could stop him, saw the man. His face paled, and his breathing sped up.

"Easy, mellon-nin," Aragorn said, lowering Legolas so he was sitting on the ground. The elf barely noticed.

"Nana…No, Nana! She's my naneth, you foul creatures! Get away from her!" Legolas cried, clutching his head and curling up in a ball.

"What ails him so?" Gimli asked worriedly. What he would give to have the carefree elf that had been his friend back.

Aragorn did not reply, instead he knelt down next to Legolas and pulled him into an embrace. Legolas clutched at his friend's tunic, muttering about his naneth as Aragorn stroked his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

Looking up, Legolas saw the ongoing fight between his father and the man. His eyes widened.

"Estel," he said, not tearing his eyes away. "A knife."

"What?" said Aragorn.

"The man has a knife concealed in his boot."

Legolas's eyes saw the fraction that the blows moved, making Thranduil strike higher each time, exposing more and more of his torso. Finally, it came to a point where Legolas could see that on the next blow, the man would be able to get the knife and stab his Ada's stomach.

The man reached for the knife…

"NO!" Legolas yelled, and he was halfway to the two before Gimli or Aragorn even realized what was happening.

The man smirked at the expression on the elvenking's face when he realized that he was about to be stabbed. It had been a long time since he had been tricked so. Eventually, Thranduil closed his eyes, knowing the pain would come, accepting it.

So, when none came, yet he still heard the sickening sound of a dagger entering flesh, he opened his eyes abruptly, just in time to see Legolas fall limply to the ground.

_A/N: Haha, another cliffy! MWAHAHAHA! Expect an update sometime this weekend! :D_


	3. Gone

_A/N: You guys are probably tired of my A/Ns. I'll give you a break of my useless blabbering this time. :P_

Chapter 3

"Legolas!"

The name was torn from three lips as the elven prince fell without his usual grace onto the cold earth. Thranduil started towards his son, but the man was faster. Throwing his captive over his shoulder, he took off once again.

Thranduil looked toward the space the man had run to, despair filling his eyes as he fell to his knees. Aragorn, who had begun to run toward the man, stopped abruptly.

"Gimli, stay and help the king!" he said, starting to run again. "I will try to get to Legolas!"

Gimli was left speechless as Aragorn ran into the woods. How was he supposed to communicate to an elvenking who had kept his father in a deep, dark dungeon? He gulped and nervously made his way to Thranduil, clearing his throat. When Thranduil still didn't look up, Gimli lowered himself so he was looking at the taller being's face. The tears running down it filled Gimli with a sudden surge of courage and compassion. He had to help the broken being in front of him.

"Hey," he said, lifting the pale face just like his friend's so they were eye to eye. The similarities to Legolas made Gimli want to cry, but he swallowed thickly and kept going.

"Legolas is strong. He will not ever leave you over something like this."

Thranduil shook his head, laughing mirthlessly.

"And what would you know about that, Gimli son of Gloin?" he said. "You so not know my son."

Gimli bristled at the words.

"I have been with him through the darkest of the trails through Moria, under the fair leaves of Lothlorien, and been on the trail of orcs for many weeks. We have been to Rohan and the marvelous fortress of Helm's Deep, and into the Halls of the Dead.

"At first I despised him because of his race, but eventually, after he saved me from falling to my death in Moria, I have come to accept him, because it does not matter what you have done, for he is a different person."

Thranduil looked up.

"Your son is extremely stubborn, and a total know-it-all at times, and he loves to make fun of me. But he is also the strongest friend I have, probably the most valuable asset to the Fellowship, and he will never stop trying to get back to you, no matter what happens."

Gimli paused and placed a hand over Thranduil's heart. The king looked at him in surprise.

"You know this. You feel it," he patted the spot on the left side of Thranduil's chest, "in here."

Thranduil shook his head.

"You obviously do not know his story if you think that his stubbornness will keep the fear of this man away for long."

Gimli sighed, frustration bubbling up in his chest.

"I know not what Legolas has been through," he growled. "But I _do_ know that if you don't get up and go after him _right now,_ he may well have to go through it all again!"

"There is no hope in reaching him," Thranduil said, his voice laced with despair. "He is lost to me."

"By the Valar! Legolas is full of hope and joy no matter what! He never, ever gives up hoping that a situation can better! How on Arda are you his father!?" Gimli yelled, finally having had enough of the king's attitude.

Images of a happy, hopeful elfling beaming up at him flashed through Thranduil's mind, and he curled in on himself.

"Ion-nin…" he mumbled. Suddenly an image of the man came to mind. From Legolas's descriptions from when he was an elfling, he could practically see what had happened during his time in captivity.

"Ion-nin! Dari hae o ion-nin!" he yelled, ignoring the dwarf next to him.

Gimli turned and walked away from the father of his friend.

Aragorn saw the man, almost ten years ahead of him. Yet that was not what urged him on.

What fueled his speed was his view of the pale face hanging lifelessly over the man's shoulder, eyes closed, and the silvery blood that was soaking the man's clothes that was not his own.

Suddenly Legolas's eyes snapped open, and he saw Aragorn running behind them. Relief showed on his face, but it soon was lost in rigorous coughing.

As blood trickled down his lips, Legolas stared at Aragorn, who was running as fast as his mortal legs could carry him. Legolas gasped as the man leaped over a small stream and landed, sending s jolt through the archer's broken body. Even as he cried out in pain, he felt the consciousness fleeing him and he closed his eyes in resignation.

Aragorn watched in horror as his friend fell unconscious again. He, too, leaped over the stream, and he was about to reach the man when he turned, bow in hand, and pointed it at Aragorn, firing.

Aragorn felt a sudden jolt of pain go through his thigh, and his leg buckled and he fell face first into the dirt. The man's laughter reached his ears, and he tried to sit up, but he couldn't ignore the pain.

_But the man still has Legolas!_ He thought. _I can't stop! I must save him!_ But his body would not obey him. He stared in despair as the man and Legolas disappeared beyond the horizon, lost within the trees.

It was late that night when Gimli finally decided that Aragorn had been gone far too long. The king had finally succumbed to sleep earlier in the evening, and Gimli had made a small fire to warm him, as he had seemed unusually cold. Gimli picked a stick from nearby and wrote a message on the ground in the common tongue, so that the king would know where he had disappeared to.

Picking up his axe, he looked in the direction where Aragorn had run. Sighing at the realization that it would be a long trip, he began to pick his way through the woods.

It was almost an hour later when he saw, just across a small stream, his friend laying in a pool of blood. Running over to Aragorn, Gimli kneeled by his side and noticed the arrow laying on the floor and the blood running down his leg. Apparently the pain of removing the arrow had been too much for the human.

Gimli ripped a piece of his tunic and wet it with water from the stream. He began to dab at the blood to wash it away. Aragorn's eyes cracked open.

"G..Gimli?" he said, his lips dry.

"Yes, it is me, laddie," Gimli said, not looking up from his work. He didn't want Aragorn to see the tears forming in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Aragorn had some tears of his own, and they began to run down his face.

"I…I lost them," he said. He squeezed his eyes shut.

"Legolas is gone."

_A/N: A pretty short chapter, I guess, but I wanted to make sure to write SOMETHING. Hope you all liked. I didn't like this chapter as much as the others._


	4. You Could Have Saved Him

_A/N: Hi everybody! Thank you to all my reviewers! Here are some replies._

_Issy: I know! I was waiting for someone to notice! More about this will revealed in this chapter, so keep reading on!_

_Gracie: Haha! I can't tell you whether he'll survive this or not, cuz that will ruin the story._

_Shelly2728: Thank you so much! I hope I can keep you interested._

_Guest: Thank you! I agree, there should be more fics with a near-dead Legolas. J_

_Jenri92: Thanks! I hope that you will keep reading. Thanks for reviewing._

_Juanita: Thank you! Please keep reading and reviewing; reviews keep me writing!_

_Eruaistaniel: Thank you for your support on both this fic and "Hello". I hope that you will like both this and my future fics!_

Chapter 4

Legolas woke up because of a fiery pain all over his body. It was centered in his arm and his chest, and as he forced his eyes open, dizziness overcame him. He knew this feeling.

_Poison,_ he thought sourly. _Just what I need right now._

"Ah, you are awake, princeling," he heard a voice say, and he cringed, but he put a mask of indifference over his eyes. He had showed far too much weakness to this man already. He heard laughter that made him wince. The man looked at him, and blue and green clashed in an icy battle. The man smirked.

"You still believe that I am him, don't you?" the voice said, and the man laughed some more. Forcing his eyes open again, Legolas looked up and blinked in the bright light. A face loomed above him, and the eyes were filled with laughter. Legolas coughed, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"What?" he said, and the man smiled even wider at his response.

"I am not the man you think I am. How could I be? That was over a thousand years ago. We humans don't live that long, you know," he said, twirling one of the prince's locks around his finger. Legolas tried to move away, but he found himself unable to move without a bout of dizziness.

"Not him?" Legolas rasped, wishing for water silently.

"No. Not him," the man said, blinking his big eyes.

"But…But the eyes…" Legolas said. The man laughed.

"Many in my family inherited these eyes from him, princeling," the man said, and Legolas's eyes widened.

"He was…ancestor?" he asked. Of course, now that he looked past the eyes, this man was pretty different from the one who had haunted him as an elfling. While the other had dark hair and a stubble on his chin, but this man had lighter hair and a clean shave.

"These eyes of his have been a curse to all who inherited them," he said, shaking his head. "My father was lucky, and he did not get them.

"Veritinan," he continued, and Legolas shivered at the familiar name, "Knew that his eyes were what scared you most about him. He said that it was the duty of any who received them to find you and finish where he left off."

"So you mean to kill me," Legolas said without expression. "because of your eye color."

The man laughed.

"Of course, princeling. For once my duty is complete, I can live freely without the burden of your capture in my shoulders."

"The ways of men have always confused me," Legolas said, glaring. "But I never knew they would kill a person for a family member long forgotten."

"No, princeling, not forgotten," the man said. "_Never_ forgotten. The eyes have always searched for you, always. You know this, obviously."

"Many years have passed," Legolas said, trying to ignore the dizziness that was growing steadily worse. "I am no longer an elfling. I have lost my naneth, been through many battles, and become Greenwood's," _ah, how he loved that name_. "finest warrior."

"And yet you still scream for your daddy at the sight of these eyes," the man taunted, bending over so that the icy green was all he could see.

Legolas felt the panic and anger swell within him, just as it had all those years ago. He wanted to scream, but he clamped his mouth shut. The dizziness became overwhelming, and as he faded into oblivion, he heard the man's maniacal laughter.

When Gimli woke up, it was because of a groan from his right. Muttering under his breath about it being too early for anyone to be awake, he blearily made his way over to Aragorn, who was wide awake and in pain.

"Ah, Aragorn," Gimli said in mock pity, yawning as he looked upon the man. "Is there not anything I can do to ease your pain?"

"Well," hissed Aragorn. "You could make a pain-numbing tea. That would be appreciated."

Dropping his joking tone, Gimli nodded.

"What do I put in it?" he asked, grabbing Aragorn's pack. The ranger told him what to add to the mixture, and soon he had a pot of water boiling away at a fire. Dropping a few leaves of the herbs as he was instructed, Gimli poured the concoction into a small cup, and, helping the ranger sit up, gave it to Aragorn. The man sighed in contentment as he slowly sipped at the contents. Gimli's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"The elf always said that your pain-numbing teas had the worst flavor in all of Arda."

"Ah, well," Aragorn said, closing his eyes and smiling. "That is because I give him the one that tastes like pulverized orc meat."

Gimli sputtered, and Aragorn laughed.

"You can add one herb, that I told you to put in, that makes the tea taste quite nice, actually," Aragorn said. "I usually give him the bad one, unless he is so injured that I pity him. And that doesn't happen often."

Gimli snorted, and Aragorn grinned at him. Slowly, the ranger dragged himself over to the king, who still had his eyes open and glazed in elvish sleep.

"Hir nin?" Aragorn said, patting the elf's cheek gently with one hand. "Hir nin, you need to wake up. We need to leave so we can pursue Legolas." Aragorn's face darkened.

"If we do not leave soon, there will be no hope for him."

Thranduil woke almost immediately. Aragorn smiled.

"Good morning, your majesty," he said, standing up. The tea had eased the pain enough for him to walk, well _limp_, really, and he felt an urgent need to get to Legolas as soon as possible.

Thranduil also stood up.

"Aye," he said, his face set. "We must reach Legolas."

"Oh, and where did this attitude come from?" Gimli said, surprised by yet unable to control the anger that suddenly came over him and made him see red. "Only yesterday you were bawling like an elfling, now you're a mighty warrior again?"

"Gimli, please—" Aragorn said, but the dwarf cut him off.

"Don't 'Gimli' me!" he said, and turned back to the king, who clenched his fists.

"Are you suddenly so determined because it was a human who woke you up instead of a dwarf? I tried, I tried so hard to help you yesterday, and you just pushed me away!

"Your son was no better than you. When he met me, he pushed me away and despised me to the very core! And he treated men like Boromir no better!"

Thranduil's face was contorted with rage.

"Don't you dare insult my ion!" he yelled, stepping towards the dwarf and making use of his height. "You have no idea what the race of men has done to him!" Gimli looked into the king's eyes, but instead of rage, as he expected, he saw deep sadness, like the deepest lake in Arda.

"You have no idea what he has seen, _dwarf_," he said, spitting the word out like an insult. "Legolas's heart has been torn apart and never put together quite right ever since. He was on the road to healing, and now he has been captured again! And you call my sadness weak!"

Thranduil paused, breathing heavily.

"He is my only child," the king murmured, so soft that Gimli could barely hear it. "His naneth is gone, and he is all I have left. I love him more than you could comprehend, for our race is mortal. We, as the Eldar, have a way of connecting with our sons and daughters that you will never understand. One's elfling is precious, more precious than all the gold and mithril in the world, for it is a life created that could be sustained forever, given the proper protection."

Gimli shook his head and laughed mirthlessly.

"And he is, _obviously_, the most important thing to you, _especially_ since you didn't leave at the first opportunity to save him and instead sat here in despair. You could have saved him."

Gimli sunk to his knees, feeling tears welling behind his eyes.

"You could have saved him."

Aragorn reached down to help him up, but Gimli shoved his hand away roughly.

"No, Aragorn. A dwarf can get up by himself. A _dwarf_ does not despair," he said, getting to his feet. "Now, let us be going."

_A/N: Ahhh! They aren't getting anywhere nearer to Legolas by arguing!_

_Sorry the chapters are so short. I think my posts will be every two to three days, this long or a little longer. I probably won't be able to update until Friday. Sorry! Please don't stop being interested in my story because of my infrequent updates. It is just that I have school, soccer, band, girl scouts, etc. and I am currently also working on a novel. Though I try to fit writing fanfiction in, it doesn't always work out._

_Please review!_


	5. Darkness

_A/N: Had an awesome writing meeting with my brother's friend and her mom (of course, my brother and his friend were writing about flying cats and villains with mushroom-shaped heads and who knows what else), and the mom and I got some good decision making about our stories ready for November, which is National Novel Writing Month!_

_Chapter 5_

When Legolas woke up again, he was in a new place. Darkness. He stared at the blackness, assuming that it was just that his eyes had yet to adjust, but after a few minutes of staring into nothing he began to realize that it was not his eyes fooling him.

His breath hitched, and he sat up. The dizziness from yesterday was gone. He groped at the gritty floor with his hands. He soon came to a wall, which was cold and smooth. Reaching around it, he came to a shelf. Upon it he found a few bottles and boxes. He opened them and, making sure not to drop the lids, for he would surely never find them again in this cursed darkness, sniffed at them, one at a time. To his surprise, they were healing herbs and teas and concoctions. Suddenly, a bright light flooded the room, and he squinted into it as his eyes burned.

"Ah, someone has found the herbs, I see," a voice said, and Legolas immediately hid all emotion from his eyes. The man laughed.

"You need not try to hide anything from me, little prince," he said, grinning. "I already can tell your feelings, whether they show in your eyes or not."

Legolas kept a steady gaze, though inside his heart was racing.

"Yea?" he said, thanking the Valar that he voice didn't shake. "And how, little human, would you know that?"

"It seems you have yet to be taught respect," the man said, frowning. "Maybe this will help teach you." He came up to Legolas and pulled something out of his pocket. Legolas's eyes widened.

"Yes, princeling, this is what you think it is," the man said, and in a flash he had a fistful of the elf's golden hair tangled in his fingers. Legolas struggled, but the man forced him to expose his neck with a jerk of his hand. He pulled out the offending object with the other and fastened it around his captive's neck.

"Much better," he said. Legolas clutched at the too-tight band of leather around his neck and glared at the string attached to it.

He had been collared. Like an animal.

The man laughed, and all Legolas could do was glare, which made him laugh all the more.

"Come," he said, and he grabbed the leash, pulling Legolas along. The elf tried to resist, but whenever he pulled back, the loop around his neck tightened, and he realized if he didn't stop, he would not be able to breathe.

It was thus that the Prince of Mirkwood was lead into a small courtyard: lead on a leash by his captor.

The man tied the end of the leash to a wooden post in the middle of the courtyard. Images flashed through Legolas's mind.

_His mother, wearing a collar much like he was, bloodied and unconscious in a heap on the ground, her usual beauty and grace gone._

_Her face every time she woke up, turning from a pain-filled grimace into a small smile as she saw his face above her. The feel of her skin on his as she wiped away his tears with one hand._

_The look of despair on her face as she fell on that fateful day. Her comforting words, the last time he would hear her voice._

Legolas felt tears sting his eyes as he relived the moments that had taken place in this very same patch of grass almost 2,500 years ago.

He glanced around, and suddenly a realization hit him. Last time, the only reason he had escaped, it had been because of one of the "men" in the place had been a Mirkwood elf in disguise. Now, the place was abandoned. It was just him and the man.

"My, my, little elfling, don't worry," he said. "For now, let's do something fun."

The man put his hand in a pocket and fished around in it for a little while. After a few moments he pulled out what looked like a spherical gem.

It was a beautiful thing. It was clear, it seemed, but there was a blue ball pulsing in the center. This was what captivated Legolas. The ball wasn't really blue, now that he looked closer. It also had many other color, especially green. He stared at it and his broken reflection upon its surface in stony silence.

"You see what I have in my hand here, elf?" the man said. He tossed the ball up and caught it in his palm. "Here in my hand, I have your life."

"What?" Legolas replied, keeping a steady tone. "That is not possible."

"Oh, isn't it?" the man said, smiling a deranged smile. Slowly he closed his eyes and set his face in concentration.

Suddenly, Legolas felt a force trying to get through the barriers of his mind. He shoved it away violently, but it returned and overwhelmed his walls from all sides.

He could see the world differently now. Alongside the man in front of him where the stiff standing figures of those he loved.

Aragorn, Gimli, his Ada, Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Sam, Haldir, Galadriel, Gandalf, and more, they were all there.

And none of them were wearing their usual smiles, not even the hobbits.

"My friends?" he said cautiously, noticing how their eyes narrowed as they fell upon him.

"Friends?" Aragorn spat, and Legolas recoiled in shock.

"Estel, I—"

"We know what you have done, Legolas," said Gimli, glaring at him. "We know about what you did before."

"What do you mean by that?" Legolas said, frowning.

"You killed her, Legolas."

Legolas looked toward the source of the voice. It was his Ada. An angry Thranduil he could deal with, but one with such deep sadness and betrayal in his eyes he could not.

"You killed your naneth, Legolas."

Legolas felt the pain of those words physically. He felt a pang in his chest, near his heart, and his breathing became labored. Sweat began to gather on his forehead.

"Why would you do such a thing, Legolas?" Gandalf frowned, deepening the wrinkles etched on his face. "You were the one who lead her into the woods the day you were captured. You were the one who insisted you go all the way into the heart of forest, even though you knew it was dangerous."

Legolas fell to his knees. The pain in his chest had become unbearable. His breathing was ragged and sweat was rolling in beads down his face.

_I killed her,_ he thought. _I killed her I killed her I killed—_

Suddenly, they all disappeared. Legolas jumped back in surprise, which strained his injuries. He felt a spot of blood soaking through his tunic. The man was laughing, as usual.

"Today will be a crash course," he said, and from Legolas's place on his knees he looked immensely tall and powerful. "We shall now begin the next subject."

He once again grasped the ball, and suddenly Legolas felt an explosion of pain shoot through every ounce of his body. He gasped as the world spun around him. He felt tears run down his face, yet the fire inside him continued to burn through his insides. After only a few seconds, however, the pain was suddenly gone, and he fell face first onto the ground.

"Now, for the last class," the man said, and he picked up the sphere once more.

Legolas felt his mind being shoved out of his body once again. The man soon had control of him. He felt his legs moving, and he felt himself bending down to pick up one of the many weapons stacked near the pole in the center of the field.

_What am I doing?_ He thought, _This is not me! Stop, body! Dang it, stop!_

But his body would not listen to him. Instead, it selected a rather large knife and began to make long, oozing cuts on itself, all the way down its torso. Legolas did not feel any pain, but he knew he would as soon as he regained control of his body.

_Why won't you listen to me? _He thought desperately. _You've got to stop!_

This did not help him however, and by the time the man gave him control of his body once again, he was surprised at the burning pain and he fell to the ground.

"Well, little prince, you certainly hae some room for improvement in your studies," the man said, as he hauled him by the leash back towards the cell. The elf was so light that it wasn't even a challenge for him.

As soon as they arrived back in the cell, he dumped Legolas in the middle of it. The injured prince began to slowly drag himself towards the medicine shelves. The man laughed eagerly as he shut the door slowly.

"Yes, treat yourself while you can, Legolas," he said. "For someday soon you will be so broken you won't be able to."

Then he closed the door, leaving Legolas in darkness.

_A/N: Yay! That was much harder to write than I expected._

_No Gimli, Aragorn, or Thranduil in this one; sorry! Been out all day and been practicing for my big soccer game tomorrow. Didn't have much time._

_In fact, I'm supposed to be in bed right now, so if anyone asks, I'm sound asleep…_


	6. I Killed Her

_A/N: Hi guys! I am so hungry right now…I didn't have breakfast._

_Gracie: For now, I will just tell you this: remember the poison in the arrow that hit Legolas in chapter 1? By now, the blood that had the poison in it would've gotten to his heart and been pumped all over his body, right? The ball connects with the poison, and when the man uses his mind he can make the poison start effecting him and causing pain again. When the man doesn't use the ball, the poison remains inactive. This whole thing also works because some of the blood with the poison would also have gotten to his brain, so he could control Legolas's mind._

_Of course, Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, and Thranduil don't know this yet…_

_Chapter 6_

Thranduil, Aragorn, and Gimli walked practically in silence, apart from the footsteps of the human, dwarf, and horses. As the elvenking stepped soundlessly over the ground, he wondered at the heaviness of his companions' footsteps. He was taller than and just as broad as both of them, yet he was the one making the least noise.

How he longed to run and leave them behind! The dwarf kept shooting him dirty looks, and the human insisted that they did not go as fast as he wished. If he could have gone on without them, he could already have reached his ion!

"Gimli, King Thranduil, I have lost Legolas's trail," the ranger said, stopping and leaning on a tree, "There is no sign of him past here," he motioned to some footprints in the soft mud they had been travelling on. "Here, the ground gets too hard for there to be any footprints."

Thranduil saw this. The ground before had been wet from the stream that they had passed, which ran into a small lake that kept the soil around it wet. Now, they were too far from the lake to see the prints that Aragorn relied on when tracking.

"Well," Gimli said. "It would make sense for them to continue forward, wouldn't it? I say we continue straight on."

"That may be, Gimli," Aragorn said. "But they may well have gone in any direction. We just have to choose a path."

Suddenly, Thranduil felt a rush of pain surge through him through the bond he shared with his son. He grimaced as he felt the equivalent of a knife being shoved into his chest. He knew this pain. It was physical, but the worst of it was emotional. He heard the same words going through his head a million times a second.

_I killed her. I killed her. I killed her._

He couldn't see what was going on, but he could feel the burning pain. As it began to overwhelm him, he had enough sense around him to realize that Legolas had started blaming himself again, and he felt like the pain of the knife had doubled. He forced himself to cut off the connection, because he knew if he didn't he would pass out.

"King Thranduil!" Aragorn said, kneeling beside the king, who had dropped to his knees. The elf shivered, and the ranger's worry grew. "Hir nin, what's wrong?"

"Legolas…" Thranduil breathed. "He is hurting."

Aragorn sighed in sympathy. He knew the king and his son had always had a connection, and Legolas was undoubtedly in a lot of pain with his injuries and whatever the man was doing to him now.

"He thinks he killed her…" Thranduil said, and Aragorn gasped. Elrond had once told him of the time when Legolas had given into grief and almost faded because of thinking he had killed his mother, who Aragorn knew Thranduil was referring to.

"No!" Aragorn said, covering his mouth with his hand, the realization of how dire the situation really was hitting him full force. Even if they got Legolas back, now, they might lose him to grief.

Thranduil stood up, but his legs would not obey his command to stay that way, and they crumpled below him. He felt Aragorn's strong arms catching him, and the human seemed very warm. Everything was cold and icy around him. Feeling like an elfling needing to be kept warm on a winter night, he leaned into the human and closed his eyes in exhaustion.

Gimli and Aragorn were stunned by the suddenness of the king's collapse, and Aragorn lowered him onto the ground. The king muttered something about being cold, and Aragorn went over to one of the horses and retrieved a blanket from the saddlebag. Upon his return, he draped it across the elf, whose eyes had opened slightly and were glazed over in the elvish form of sleep. He turned to Gimli.

"It seems we must stop here for tonight." He glanced at the sun, which was setting above them. "We wouldn't have gotten much further today, anyway.

Gimli did not respond, he only frowned.

"What is it, Gimli?" Aragorn said as he grabbed some nearby wood and began to make a fire.

"Who does the elf think he killed?" Gimli said, sitting down next to the ranger. "Who is 'she'?"

"His mother," Aragorn said sadly, and he leaned back as he finally got a blaze going. He turned his head towards the stars.

"Why would he think that?" Gimli said, frowning more deeply. "What happened to him? It seems I cannot go on without knowing the truth any longer."

Aragorn sighed. "I wish that he was here to tell you himself, for it is not my place, and I barely know anything myself. Gandalf would be a better person to ask, but he is not here. Alas, I will tell you what I know."

Legolas was going crazy in the darkness. Stitching his wounds in the blackness had been a painful ordeal, but once he was done, he couldn't help but wish he would have to do it again, just to have something to do.

He was swimming in the darkness. He only knew that the floor was below him. He had forgotten where the shelves were, and he felt the walls crawling in on him. He suddenly felt choked up, and he closed his eyes. This was a cage, a tiny one, surrounding him, suffocating him. He needed to move, he had to! Yet he could not make his muscles work in his painful fear of the unknown. Maybe there was a cage. If that was the case, not knowing was better, right?

He whimpered in the darkness. A faint echo was his only response, and he began to feel increasingly alone. He needed light! He needed air! Trees! Birds! The sunshine!

Slowly, the door opened a slit, letting in a small ray of light onto the pale face of the elf.

The man grabbed the leash, smiling, and he tugged roughly on it, forcing Legolas to follow. When they arrived in the courtyard once again, he tied the leash to the post once again.

"Now, princeling," he said. "We have not been properly introduced, have we? My name is Cyras. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Prince Legolas of Greenwood."

He laughed, and Legolas winced at the sound.

"Now, let us begin the lesson."

_A/N: After I wrote "He turned to Gimli" I really wanted to put "Who was feeling disconnected from the action because he had barely made an appearance so far." Ha! The awkward ways of my mind._

_To find out more about my view on Legolas's past, my fic "Hello" explores this topic a little more, though it does not mention Legolas's guilt over his mother's death, it does talk about his almost fading. So go check that out, guys!_

_I am thinking of, instead of letting you hear Aragorn boringly talk about Legolas's past, I could make Cyras make Legolas relive it! Wouldn't that be fun?_

_MWAHAHAHAHA I AM SO DEMENTED!_

_R&R!_


	7. Of Politics and Angry Orcs

_A/N: OMNOMNOM I eat reviews! Feed me, please! I am starving!_

_Chapter 7_

When the king of Mirkwood came to, it was dark outside. The dwarf and man were conversing quietly to his right, and he heard their words clearly. Estel was telling the dwarf the story of Legolas's past, and Gimli's face was filled with more and more horror with each word. He turned his head to the sky.

The stars were twinkling merrily above him, and he turned to lie on his back and stare at them. The beauty in them made him smile softly. It was good to know that something, at least, had not changed since he was an elfling.

His son was remarkably unlike him. As a child, he had always disliked studying, but he had done it. He never was anything other than serious; he was always reading. Training was his worst area, because he found running the kingdom to be the more interesting part of being king. He always used caution and never took risks. He didn't like being around people, he found his own presence much more comforting than that of other elflings.

Legolas was the opposite as an elfling. He had loved learning, but he had hated studying from books, reading and politics with a passion, and he still did. His ion loved nature and being around other elves; he was the sweetest elfling around when he was younger, and even right before he had gone on the Quest he was able to bring a smile to the face of any elf. He also loved fighting and was the kingdom's most skilled warrior. He was like a lightning rod for trouble, but he didn't mind. He found fighting fun, it seemed. Thranduil never had understood this, and he doubted he ever would.

He depended on his son. Legolas ran Greenwood's army, and when his mother had died and Thranduil had succumbed to grief, he had run the entire kingdom at barely five hundred, running himself to the ground and attending the council meetings he hated so much day after day in his father's stead.

Legolas was much stronger than him, and he knew how to keep his temper in check. Though he had inherited his father's temper, he knew how to keep a cool head and ignore the anger when Thranduil did not. Legolas had saved him from some pretty bad and embarrassing situations involving this trait many times by reminding him to keep a cool head and breathe.

He loved his son so much. As his eyes glazed over in sleep, a memory came to him.

_Thranduil was ready to bang his head against the table in frustration. Why did the people at this council have to be so stubborn? They were getting absolutely nowhere, and it annoyed him to no end._

_"Lord Garien, why won't you allow a path through that part of the forest?" he asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "It is perfectly secure—"_

_Suddenly a loud bang came from the door. Thranduil didn't know if it was meant to be a knock or not._

_"Enter," he said, and the door opened. It was Legolas, barely as high as his waist. His mother was away, so he must have gotten bored and come to try and get his father._

_"Hello, ion-nin," Thranduil said, giving a small smile._

_"Hi, Ada!" he said, beaming. Even the stoic lords had to smile at the little elfling. "What are you doing?"_

_"I am having a very important meeting, penneth," he said, smiling. Legolas's face fell, because he knew that if his father was having a meeting, he would be all alone for a very long time without his naneth there. Thranduil couldn't bear to disappoint him._

_"Come, Greenleaf," he said, pulling his chair out a little and motioning to his lap. "You can use your authority as the prince and help me decide very important things."_

_Legolas squealed happily and came over to sit on his father's lap. Slowly, the conversation around the table restarted, and Legolas listened with enthusiasm, though he barely understood what they were saying._

_"What is this called?" he whispered to Thranduil after a while. "All this sitting and talking about stuff in the kingdom?"_

_"This is called _politics,_ Greenleaf," the king said quietly, looking much like an elfling himself whispering in the ear of a friend. All the conversation died on the lips of the lords as they watched the duo with smiles._

_"Well, Ada," Legolas said, whispering loudly unintentionally. "Politics is very boring."_

_Thranduil felt his cheeks flush as he realized that everyone had started laughing at Legolas's comment. A few of the lords were heartily agreeing._

_"Ada, I'm hungry!" Legolas whined, not even realizing what had happened._

_"Well," Thranduil said, feeling the anger he would've felt melt in his chest at the sight of his son's pleading eyes. "If you want to take a break, you have to say 'the meeting shall be temporarily adjourned.' Can you do that?"_

_"The meeting shall be tem-ra-ly be a-journed," Legolas said, struggling a little over the harder words. He grinned and turned to the lords._

_"Yay! We're free! Let's run away before Ada decides to make us all sit here again for another hundred hours!"_

_All the lords laughed, and Thranduil put an expression of hurt on his face._

_One of the lords scrunched up his face in the strangest way._

_"I am a nasty orc!" he cried, getting up abruptly. He pretended to pull out a sword. "I think I fancy a little elfling and his father for dinner!" Legolas giggled and bolted out the doors in the direction of the dining hall. Ignoring the amused stares of the lords, Thranduil took off after him. The "orc" chased after them._

_They ran past many elves in the halls who smiled at the giggling prince running down them. Their much respected king, who was running after him, yelled something along the lines of: "OH NO! THE ORC IS CATCHING UP!" and laughing as Legolas squealed. Then, of course, came a very well-known elf-lord running through the halls calling in response: "I'M COMING TO GET YOU!"_

_There were many smiles that day._

_Legolas…_

_A/N: Hope you all liked this short chapter! More Legolas next time, and (dun dun dun!) reliving the experience! Should be updated on Friday or Saturday._

_Also, I know you all probably don't care, but my favorite LOTR fanfic, "Coldness" by HelloDenmark, was completed a few days ago! It is amazing, and you all should go read it! KBYE. _


	8. Nana

_Chapter 8_

Legolas had been in the dark, the wounds he had inflicted on himself aching painfully despite the herbs he had put on them. Now, his entire stomach was covered in little crisscrossing cuts among the larger ones from the first day. Though they were small, they stung painfully. His shoulder had also begun to throb again. And, of course, this stupid blackness wasn't helping either.

The darkness had reached his head, he thought. In his mind he had been there for weeks, but last time Cyras had come to get him he had so kindly informed him that only a day had passed since last time. It seemed that they would confront one another once a day. But today, he decided, he would be strong. He would not let the black hate around him reach his own heart and destroy it. The door creaked open.

O:o:O

"Third day," Cyras began as he tethered Legolas to the post in the center of the yard which stood cold and desolate.

Legolas shuddered as Cyras spoke about how the third day was so important. He looked up at the cloudy sky and back down at the pale grass beneath his feet, which was dying in the darkness of the place. As he began to shiver slightly, he noted that Cyras was wearing extra layers to provide warmth. But he was an elf, he should not feel the cold.

Cyras chuckled at his captives shuddering form.

"Your wounds are affecting you more than you realize," he said, grinning. "Especially because of the poison. It is the reason for all your troubles," he said cryptically.

Legolas stared at Cyras defiantly.

"I shall survive anything you throw at me," he said, spitting near Cyras's feet. "It is not even worth you trying." Cyras just smiled.

"_Anything,_ you say?" he said, placing a hand thoughtfully on his chin. "Oh princeling, I created today's lesson especially to prove you wrong."

He picked up the orb and brought it so that it was touching his forehead. Legolas frowned. He had never had to do that before.

Suddenly, as if in a flood, the colors and objects around him flowed away, and they were replaced by new ones. He was spun around, eventually landing down in the same place was more, but when it was more alive. He stayed suspended in the air, watching the action unfold.

_Oh no,_ he thought desperately, staggering backward and putting a hand over his mouth in horror. _No, it can't be!_

_Men bustled around a small, dirtied elfling as he was lead down the narrow hallway by his collar, shooting him disgusted looks. The young elf grabbed at the skirts of the elleth marching in silence in front of him for comfort, then he reached for her hand._

_"Hands off, elf!" the man behind him barked, and slapped his hand away from his mother's. The little blonde creature of the woods whimpered in fear, and the elleth glared daggers at the man who had hurt her only child._

_This can't be happening, _Legolas thought desperately, trying to close his eyes but realizing that he physically could not. _This is not real._

_The pair was lead into the courtyard, and their collars were tied to the poll. The glee of the men standing around eagerly watching was as sickening as it had been at the time._

_The little elfling cowered behind the tall elleth, who looked evenly into the eyes of her captor as he stared at her with the coldest green eyes that a man could have._

_"My, my," he said, coming close to her. "What shall we do today?"_

Legolas's breath hitched. The fatal mistake was coming…

_"If you would just face Nana in a fair fight instead of torturing her like a coward, she could easily beat you!" the elfling yelled at the man, trying to look brave like his father would have._

_"Legolas," his mother said warningly, and he realized he had said something wrong. He hid behind her once again._

_"She could, could she?" the man chuckled. "Alright, that can be today's activity." He turned to the surrounding men. "It shall be a contest of fighting ability between the she-elf and me!"_

_He walked over to where the elfling was cowering behind his mother, grabbing a handful of his hair and wrenching him off the ground._

_"And the little one shall be the prize!"_

_The men cheered enthusiastically, and on his Nana's face was an expression of horror._

Legolas scanned the crowd and caught sight of one of the "men", wearing a cloak, slipping away from the group. That was the Mirkwood elf Cirieth, who had been his savior.

_If only he had left a day earlier,_ Legolas thought. Turning back to the man and elves, he shuddered. He knew what was coming next.

_Veritinan tossed Lathuina her weapons, a graceful curved bow and quiver, and two long white knives._

Legolas began to panic. He could not go through this again!

Suddenly, he was no longer a spectator from above. He was there, in his younger self's body, as he watched his mother's eyes go steely. He no longer had the mind of his older self, but of the five hundred-year-old who was struggling to understand what was going on.

_Lathuina fastened the strap on her quiver and attached her knives onto her back, where they belonged. She glanced at her son and gave him a small smile. He had barely had time to return it before she was facing the man again._

_He knew his Nana could win._

'When Nana is done, maybe we can go home again!' _he thought, grinning inside at the prospect. _'We can see Ada! I hope he is not too worried.'

_Suddenly, the fight had begun. His naneth had made the first blow with both of her knives, which Veritinan had deflected with a flick of his sword. The clashing of metal filled the clearing, as well as the cheering of the audience._

_None of them seemed to be voting for his naneth, which confused him. She was much nicer than Veritinan. Why did they want him to win?_

_"Bad, Nana! Im savin suff!" /Go, Nana! I believe in you!/ he called, putting his small hands around his mouth to amplify the sound. His mother smiled between parries and he knew she had heard._

_The fight lasted a long time in the mind of a little elfling. There were too many blows, and it was all going too fast for him to really understand what was going on. Who was in the lead? He had lost track a long time ago. Completely assured that his mother would emerge victorious, he put his hand on the grass and began to twiddle with it._

_He glanced up._

_Suddenly, everything was moving super slowly. His mother's knife flew out of her right hand, and Legolas noticed the spots of blood on her dress from previous wounds that had begun to bleed again. Her body was weakened by them._

_Veritinan took advantage of the moment of surprise, and plunged his blade into her stomach._

_Legolas screamed._

_The man pulled the sword from her body, grinning in triumph as she crumpled to the ground. He held up the blade, which was dripping silvery blood, and the crowd cheered enthusiastically. Legolas, in a sudden burst of strength, ripped the collar off his neck and ran toward his mother._

_"Ah, the little one!" Veritinan said, grabbing Legolas by his shirt and holding him up, looking into his eyes. "You are mine now, princeling!"_

_Legolas screamed again and smashed his foot into his captor's face. He heard a crack, and blood began gushing from the man's nose. He cursed violently and dropped Legolas on the ground. He quickly regained his footing and scrambled over to his mother._

_"Nana!" he said, grabbing her hand. "Nana!"_

_"Greenleaf…" she murmured switching to elvish unconsciously, blood trickling past her lips. "I love you, penneth…"_

_"Nana!" Legolas replied in the same language, tears running down his face. "Nana, I'm sorry! It's my fault that you got hurt!"_

_His Naneth smiled gently, looking up at him with pain-filled eyes._

_"It isn't your fault, little one," she said, her voice becoming raspy. "It is his…"_

_"Nana, you have to be okay!" Legolas said, clutching her hand. "I will bring you back to Ada, and the healers will make you all okay again!"_

_"No, Greenleaf…" she gasped. "My time has come..."_

_"No, Nana!" Legolas said, not really knowing what she meant. "Nana, you are going to be healed. I will make sure it happens, Nana!"_

_"Listen to the trees, penneth…" she said, closing her eyes and touching the earth that was soaked with her own blood. The roots of the trees under her spoke soothingly, and Legolas listened for a minute. Suddenly, they were all silent, and it was just him and his mother again._

_"Legolas," his mother breathed, wiping the tears off his face from where she laid on the ground. "I love you, Greenleaf. I love you so much…"_

_"Nana!" he said, grabbing one of her hands in both of his. Her eyes began to slide shut. "NANA!"_

_The breath left her with a small gasp, and she didn't breathe in again._

_Her eyes closed._

_"NANA!" Legolas screamed, tears running down his face anew. "Nana, what's wrong? Nana, wake up! NANA!"_

_A hand grabbed him from behind, and he began to thrash around, screaming. The grip doubled, and more men came and grabbed his arms and legs, which were covered in the blood of his naneth, and they held him still. He still did not stop screaming, even as they carried him thus to his cell._

_He was alone._

O:o:O

_A day later, the door opened with a jolt. Legolas didn't even look up, but remained where he was, curled on his side, facing away from it._

_"Ion-nin?" a familiar voice said, and he heard a pair of feet rushing towards him. There was a figure kneeling before him, and he cupped Legolas's cheek in his hand._

_"Oh, Legolas…" the figure—his Ada—said mournfully. "Oh, penneth, what have they done to you? Where is your naneth?"_

_"I…I don't know…" Legolas said quietly, looking up. Tears sprung into his eyes, and began to roll down his pale cheeks._

_"I don't know where she went, Ada!" he said, flinging himself into his Ada's arms. "She said…she said that it was her time…and we listened to the trees, and…I kicked him, because he grabbed me…she wouldn't wake up…" he said, sobbing into his Ada's tunic._

_"Make her come back, Ada!" he yelled. "Make her come back for me!" He broke into sobs once again._

_"It's my fault, Ada. It's my fault. It's my fault…"_

_He repeated the phrase over and over, even as his father picked him up and told his soldiers to check the remaining rooms. He only knew one thing._

_It was all his fault._

_A/N: OH NO!_

_Also, is it just me, or is "Bad, Nana! Im savin suff!" the weirdest elvish phrase ever?_


	9. Savior

_A/N: Sorry for the late update! Please forgive me! I had a lot of school and band stuff, and I just hope I haven't lost any readers becasue of the wait._

_ Chapter 9_

When Legolas came back to awareness, there were tears running down his face, and they were still flowing.

A great ache came from deep inside of him, and he felt like a huge crack had been made in his heart. His hair and fallen loose of its braids during the ordeal, and sweat was rolling down his face. He collapsed onto the grass of the courtyard and looked up blearily. Every movement hurt his protesting heart, which wanted nothing more for him to lie down and let it free of the pain. Not for the first time in his life, he wanted nothing more than to fade.

"My, my," Cyras said, licking his lips and smiling. "There is much pain in your past. That should be able to cover many lessons, I think."

Legolas could not help the muffled groan that escaped him as he understood what Cyras meant. He tried to lift his head, but it was too much. Tears continued to leak out of the corner of his eyes.

_Please hurry, Ada, Estel, Gimli, _he thought as the world began to fade at the edges. _I don't think I can survive this again._

The world was sunny, and only one of the three companions in the small clearing was awake. The human relished in the solitude and serenity of the morning, with the birds chirping merrily above his head and the sun tickling him with warm fingers. He got out some pots and pans and began to cook breakfast, humming as he did it.

It was a good day, he decided.

"Good morning, King Thranduil," Aragorn said, not looking up, with a smile. The king floated back to reality. The glazed eyes came into focus, and the elf sat up and stretched, much like a cat would.

Or Legolas would.

Aragorn suddenly couldn't breathe. How could he have forgotten about his friend? How could he be so jovial on a day that could be the prince's last?

_Do not think like that,_ a voice in Aragorn's head that sounded much like Elrond's said. _Legolas is too strong to leave you now. It is your job to find him and heal him as fast as possible, but he will hold out until then._

_Still, I should not have acted like everything in the world was okay,_ Aragorn retorted. _That was wrong of me._

"Good morning, Estel," Thranduil said. "And please do not address me as such. We will be companions for a while now—although, the faster we get to Legolas the better—and it will not do." He chuckled. "Besides, I'd have to call you 'King Ellessar of Gondor'."

Aragorn gave a small smile and handed the king a small plate of food. There was some meat from the rabbit he had caught the other day and an apple. The two sat down and began to crunch on the food. Gimli didn't even stir. Thranduil sighed as he saw that Aragorn was looking at the sleeping dwarf.

"I don't understand why you and Legolas like him so," the king said in disgust. "My ion and I are going to have a serious talk about this when we find him."

Aragorn laughed, and Thranduil nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. That was not the response he had been expecting at all. And the man surprised him again as he began to sing softly.

"_The three hunters running through the wilderness,_

_In search of the young ones_

_Where they are, no one could guess._

_The man runs ahead,_

_Behind him the dwarf, and lastly the elf,_

_No one saw, no one saw how he bled._

_The injury he hid, the terrible secret,_

_He could not, would not worry them,_

_Could not fill them with regret._

_The man would place the blame upon himself,_

_He knew, and he could not be the reason._

_That was the decision of the elf."_

A new voice suddenly joined the other, much deeper and gravelly.

"_He stumbled, he staggered,_

_As the blood dripped down_

_His movements were laggard._

_Still man nor dwarf turned,_

_So focused were they,_

_Neither saw the way the pain burned._

_In a moment the dwarf heard a sound,_

_A thump from behind him,_

_And he turned around."_

Aragorn smiled at Gimli, who stopped and let the man continue the song.

_The eyes of the prince were closed,_

_And he fell without grace_

_And with a bigger problem than the hobbits they were opposed._

_The blood began to pool_

_Around the figure_

_And suddenly the man felt like a fool._

_His friend's hair was splayed like a halo,_

_Golden above his pale face_

_It gave him a beautiful glow._

_They were there in a second,_

_The man and the dwarf._

_They kneeled by him, stunned._

_How could this have happened?_

_How could they have not noticed?_

_They watched as the blood blackened._

_The man ripped the elf's hand from the wound,_

_Checking it, examining it,_

_The sight of it made him be dumbfound._

_So deep it was!_

_How messy, how painful!_

_What could've been the cause?"_

The man fell silent, and suddenly he and Gimli felt Legolas's absence keenly. His part of the song was next. He would tell them how he got the wound. Sighing, Aragorn picked up the tune again, taking the elf's part. He unconsciously made his voice smoother and more flowing, like the elf's, to make the words sound right in his mouth.

"_It had been a long trek,_

_Full of twists and turns,_

_But the one that caused the biggest wreck_

_Was one that happened after the Gondorian's death._

_The elf snuck into the scene,_

_Held his breath,_

_Drew an arrow,_

_Just as the man fell in defeat._

_Fast as a sparrow,_

_Another arrow appeared._

_Pain shot up his side,_

_And an orc holding a bow in a nearby tree sneered._

_The blood was dripping,_

_But the elf tried to shoot down the orcs,_

_The bow his left hand gripping_

_Got heavier and heavier_

_Until he fell to his knees_

_The bleeding grew steadier,_

_And he was aware of the other man, running behind him,_

_To Boromir,_

_The fallen warrior, whose eyes were dim._

_The look on his and the dwarf's face_

_Assured him_

_He could not let his pain be a disgrace,_

_He had to keep going._

_He did until he fell, and as he looked up_

_The worried forms of his friends appeared to be glowing._

_He closed his tired eyes."_

Gimli picked up the song once more.

_"The dwarf knew what ailed his fallen friend,_

_A plant that resided within the mountains of his home,_

_He ran into the forest, bend after bend,_

_Searching for the cure._

_Without the small forest plant to stop the poison,_

_The elf would die for sure._

_He was beginning to lose hope, when, alas!_

_There it was,_

_Hidden in some grass._

_He pulled it up,_

_And started to run_

_The plant in his hands, which formed a cup_

_Around the leaves._

_He reaches the man, who sits by the elf,_

_And as the pulse slows, the man grieves._

_The dwarf hurries to crush the leaves in his fingers,_

_He pours it into a cup of water,_

_So no residue lingers._

_As the elf is on his final forced breath,_

_The dwarf pours the mixture into his mouth,_

_And wishes against the being's death._

_There is pause,_

_Then another breath comes!_

_The man smiles as he removes the gauze._

_Though there is still blood,_

_It is silvery red, not black,_

_And it is easy to stud."_

Both of them began to sing the final lines, though it sounded strange because Legolas had the melody, which was too high for either of them to hope to achieve.

"_There was an unbreakable bond formed_

_In those horrible moments._

_And the heart of many others in warmed,_

_The dwarf, the elf, and the man,_

_The three hunters,_

_Once again walked the land."_

Thranduil had tears in his eyes.

"Did that really happen?" he asked. "Did the dwarf really save Legolas?"

"Aye," Aragorn said. "Gimli did save him. Legolas would be dead if not for him."

"It seems you are not as much as of a nuisance as I thought," the king said, and he put a slim hand on his chin on his chin in thought. He paused.

"That doesn't mean I like you though," he said, and Aragorn laughed loudly and Gimli joined in. Soon, all here companions were laughing.

The forest around them brightened at the sound.

_A/N: You have no idea how hard it was to write the song…_

_PLEASE REVIEW!_


	10. Seperation

_A/N: Oh my goshes! We're already on chapter 10!_

_First, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I can't stress enough that y'all keep me working on this story!_

_I feel like I have made some progress on my idea._

_Chapter 10_

Legolas felt his heart separating from his mind, just like it had all those years ago. Now, no matter what his mind told him to do, his heart would not allow him to. He couldn't even move, it hurt his heart so much.

"_You killer!" _it screamed at him. "_You have no right to live!"_

He kept his eyes tightly closed to ward off the darkness. He needed to see! Cyras had not come in over a day, he thought, and he couldn't bring himself to stop wishing for the human. At least he would be able to see. Maybe the light would ease the ache in his chest.

The door creaked open again. Legolas did not move. He couldn't find the energy.

"Well, my pet, finally lost that snarky attitude, have we?"

Cyras came and kneeled over Legolas. The elf suddenly had a flashback of the moment his father had found him, all alone. Their positions had been exactly the same; Legolas curled on his side and his father kneeling by him.

Legolas stared into his captor's eyes brokenly as he relived the memory once more. Cyras laughed.

"Ah, but the submissive ones are no fun, princeling. Show me your mislead arrogance once again," he said, grinning at the elf as if he had just said the funniest joke.

Legolas stayed silent. That was the only way his heart would let him defy Cyras. Besides, he could not gather the energy to speak, anyway. Cyras sighed.

"Oh, never mind," he said, dragging Legolas's leash. "Come along now."

When Legolas did not move to get up, the man's arm, quick as lightning, was in his hair, and he was holding him up.

"Do not disobey me!" Cyras growled in the elf's face. Legolas relived Veritinan doing the same action and he wanted to crumple to the ground and stay there, but his eyes showed no emotion. When Cyras lowered him onto the ground, Legolas didn't allow his legs to fold.

"Good elf," Cyras said, as if he was speaking to a dog. "Good princeling."

The two walked into the courtyard. The light blinded Legolas, but he was glad to be out of the darkness in his cell. His eyes slowly adjusted, and he began to see what was around him. He frowned as he saw the weapons around him.

_'What, no mind-torture today?'_ he thought sourly.

Cyras cackled as he drew out the orb again. Legolas blinked in confusion. What were the weapons for, then?

The world did not change, as he expected, but the person standing in front of him did. Now, instead of his worst enemy, his best friends stood in front of him. Among them were the Fellowship, excluding Boromir, and his father.

He shook his head.

_'This isn't real. No matter what they do to you, it isn't real,'_ he thought, looking up at them. '_Not real.'_

"Hello, _mellon-nin_," Aragorn sneered, and he walked around the elf in slow, taunting circles. "How are you?"

The image before him looked so true, he had to force himself to look away.

_'Not real. Not real. Not real…'_

Aragorn grinned and, suddenly, his eyes were those of Veritinan and Cyras, pale green gems on his face. Legolas shuddered as the ranger stared at him with the eyes, and he curled in on himself.

_'Not real. Not real. Not real…'_

Aragorn picked up a whip from the pile of weapons and ran his fingers along it, eyes shining. He came to stand behind the elf, and suddenly he brought it down and pain exploded on the prince's back. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out.

"Five turns each!" he yelled to his companions, who grinned in delight.

_'Not real. Not real. Not real…'_

As the whip cracked again and again, Legolas closed his eyes against the waves of pain.

_'Not real. Not real. Not real…'_

What broke his heart was even the gentle, harmless hobbits each had a turn. It made the whip bite all the harder to know whose hand was behind it.

The worst, however, was when his father, Gimli, and Aragorn had their goes. Gimli was not tall enough to reach the top of his back, like the others could, so he had to strike lower and harder. Aragorn was nearer his height, so he struck in the middle, and his father was tall and lean, so he struck nearer his shoulders.

_'Not real. Not real. Not real…'_

After forty lashes, five for Gandalf, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Gimli, and Thranduil, it was finally over. Legolas could not stop a muffled groan that escaped him, and he heard the others' laughter. Soon, it all melded into one voice, which he recognized as Cyras's.

"Wasn't that fun, princeling?" he said as he laughed, and he ran his fingers gently over the cuts, all too real on Legolas's back. The elf arched his back in pain, but no sound escaped him.

Chuckling, the man put his fingers on the elf's chin and forced it up, so they were eye to eye. The unguarded view of the icy orbs proved too much for the prince, strained already as he was, and he allowed the familiar blanket of unconsciousness to smother him in its embrace.

It was later that day when Gimli, Thranduil, and Aragorn decided to test their luck going straight on, and they were rewarded.

"It seems they stopped here," Aragorn said, motioning to a small clearing. "And by the looks of it, Legolas was still unconscious. See, there's a little blood here, and here."

It was a small, well-lit clearing nearing the edge of Greenwood. There were few signs that the man and Legolas had passed through here, but Aragorn could spot some because of his tracking skills and Thranduil because of his enhanced sight.

"…And the way the blood is smeared suggests he was laying heavily on his side." Aragorn moved throughout the clearing, eyes scanning it avidly.

"Ah! See, Legolas's hair," he said, picking a single silvery golden strand off the ground. "Then, I think, they continued along that way, with the man carrying Legolas. See, the footprints are heavier than a man walking unburdened would make."

They began to walk in the direction that Aragorn had pointed out. It was many hours later, during the evening, that they realized there had been no trails to be seen since that afternoon.

"The tracks stopped," Gimli said. "We didn't even notice, we were so determined." He looked up at the man and elf for confirmation.

"Aye," Aragorn said. "It seems it is so."

"Rhaich!" Thranduil said, smashing his fists into a nearby tree in a sudden burst of his fiery temper with each word. "Rhaich, raich, raich!"

Blood dripped from his knuckles, but he took no notice of them.

"Thranduil…" Aragorn said, stepping toward the king. "Your hand!"

"Nuuta!" the elvenking yelled, tears forming in his eyes. "We hae lost an entire day, and Legolas is dying!"

Aragorn and Gimli drew in their breath sharply.

"He is hurting more than either of you could comprehend, I have felt it all day. He is trying to hide it from me, he is trying to block it from me, but some still seeps through. If it is this bad with most of it shielded from me, how bad must it be in its entirety? He is fading from guilt and grief, and we have lost a day's worth of travelling! Nuuta, nuuta, nuuta, nuuta!"

_A/N: So…yea._

_Question:_

_Is Legolas's hair silver or gold? Everyone says its gold, and I think I'd like that better, but in the movie it is more silvery. In the books, Thranduil's hair is golden, so I guess it would make sense, but I just don't know…_


	11. Death

_A/N: Ya know what annoys me? Elladan and Elrohir are a combined character on the FF filters! They are separate people, dang it!_

_Chapter 11_

The king sunk to his knees, his knuckles dripping blood onto his robes. The crown on his head toppled to the ground with a dull thunk. He clutched at his hair and let out a heart-wrenching wail.

"Thranduil!" Aragorn exclaimed, and he kneeled by the king.

"Not shielded…anymore…" the king gasped, and sweat began to roll down his face. "…he must've…passed out…"

Aragorn helped the king to lay on the ground. The elf's eyes stayed squeezed tightly shut, and his breathing, normally next to silent, was heavy and ragged. He clutched tightly at his chest.

"Gimli," Aragorn said. "Can you get some herbs and bandages from my pack? It's over there, under that tree."

The dwarf picked up the pack from where Aragorn had dumped it when he went to the king. He grabbed a small healing kit from within it and tossed it to the ranger, who snatched it out of the air.

Aragorn gathered a few herbs from within the pack and a small vial of water. He put the leaves in and closed the lid, and shook it vigorously before opening it once more and pouring it into the lips of the thrashing king, who swallowed on reflex. Soon, he fell motionless.

The man took the king's bleeding hands and removed a few splinters, and the elf didn't even stir. His face remained pale and motionless. Aragorn put a salve on the hands bandaged them, before taking out a few more herbs.

"What are those for?" Gimli asked, as Aragorn began to chew them.

"You seem to forget I had an arrow through my leg only two days ago," the man sarcastically, and he continued to munch on the leaves.

Gimli went red, and Aragorn laughed.

"Do not worry, my friend. I do not blame you forgetting. We have all been a little preoccupied…" he sighed, and his eyes suddenly flooded with sadness.

"I just can't believe the elf went through all that," Gimli said, sitting down and beginning to make a fire, referring to when Aragorn had told him of Legolas's experiences the night before. "And yet he remains so happy and playful. How can he live at all, never mind jovially?"

"That is another thing that I, too ask myself," Aragorn said, sighing. "I know I wouldn't be able to, especially given the elves' amazing memory. I'm sure he can remember every single detail of every moment he's been through, good and bad."

All was silent for a few minutes, until Thranduil sat up with a jolt. Aragorn and Gimli's heads snapped up, and Aragorn stood up and walked over to the king.

"Are you all right, Thranduil?" he asked in concern. "You woke up very quickly. Those herbs were supposed to at least help you get a few hours of sleep."

Thranduil ran a hand tiredly over his face, wiping away the sweat.

"I don't know, Estel," he said softly. "I don't know…"

Aragorn helped the king get to his feet, and he pulled a few things out of his bag as he searched for the thing he wanted. However, he made the mistake of pulling out a familiar blue and silver tunic and circlet.

"Legolas…" Thranduil breathed, taking the items from where Aragorn had placed them on the ground and holding them against his cheek.

"Ah…" Aragorn said. "He had no more space in his pack after the coronation, so he asked me to carry them for him. I never got to give them back."

Thranduil closed his eyes and breathed in the lingering scent of his son in the clothes; it was a mix of pine and a smell he could only describe as pale blue.

Aragorn finally found what he was looking for: a red tunic and brown breeches, and he offered them to the king.

"I know that they're probably nowhere near as grand as your usual attire," he said, as Thranduil took them from him. "But there is blood on your clothes now from your hands, and I know you would prefer not to continue wearing them."

The king nodded his thanks, and got up.

"There is a stream nearby," he said. "I think I shall go and bathe. Anyone care to join me?"

Gimli and Aragorn shook their heads, knowing that the king was only asking out of politeness. He nodded, and took toward the woods.

He still had Legolas's clothes in his hands.

Legolas was having trouble healing the slashes on his back. He couldn't reach the middle of his back to get to the ones there, and he couldn't reach far enough to stitch any of the deeper ones without causing himself extreme agony.

_Maybe it is a good thing you can't reach them…_a voice inside his head whispered. _Now you can fade. Now you can die, like you deserve._

Eventually, he had to settle for putting a salve on the cuts he could reach, and dealing with the pain through the ones he couldn't.

He could barely get himself to get to the shelf, anyway. His whole chest, his heart and the area around it, felt like an empty hole.

Maybe death would be better.

He closed his eyes.

Though he hadn't bathed or changed clothes, Thranduil sat beside the stream, his head in his hands. Suddenly, the pain which he had been suppressing all day seemed overwhelming. He rubbed absentmindedly at his temples as he tried to fight against it. It grew and grew, and he growled lowly under his breath.

He felt like his head was about to come apart in his hands. Reaching for a tree nearby, he felt immediately the presence of the being in his mind.

"_Hello, Thranduil," _she said, her melodious voice washing over him. His breath caught in his throat in recognition. It was the first tree he had spoken to after his wife's death and Legolas's rescue, on the way back to Mirkwood with his tiny son grieving in his arms. "_It has been many years since you have visited us."_

_"Aye," _he replied, placing his palm against its firm bark. _"Too long, my friend. Too long."_

_"What brings you here today?" _she asked, voice warm. _"You do not often venture so far from your palace. We see your son more often in these parts."_

_"You see, I am here for that very reason. Legolas is missing. He was captured by a man with Veritinan's eyes."_

_"But you know it cannot be him."_

_"Aye. Humans do not live that long."_

Her laughter filled his ears.

"_Of course not, penneth, of course not."_

_"I…I miss him….I want my ion back."_

_"I know, penneth. He misses you, too."_

_"Yes…wait…you have seen him?!"_

_"Of course, Thranduil. Think about where you are."_

Realization dawned on the elvenking.

"_He brought Legolas back there?"_

_"Aye," _the she-tree replied, voice laced with sadness. _"And he is fading. You must to him quickly, for—"_

Suddenly, there seemed to be a gaping hole in Thranduil's chest. He staggered backward, clutching at it. He gasped at the sudden emptiness. What was usually there?

"Legolas!" he said aloud, eyes widening. No, it couldn't be!

He ran back to the campsite, his son's clothes in his arm. He grabbed the arms of both Aragorn and Gimli and dragging them along the all too familiar path, the same one from back then.

_Legolas…_

_A/N: Did you know that Thranduil means "vigorous spring" in Sindarin? I found that kind of strange…Why vigorous spring? Legolas's name's meaning seems so appropriate, but this doesn't, really make very much sense._


	12. Rescue

_A/N: Can't really think of anything right now…Except Elrond and the twins are coming in soon! Woohoo! They are pretty high on my favorite characters list._

_Chapter 12_

Thranduil's heart was racing. He was almost there, almost there! How had he not known that the man would bring Legolas back to the same place as before?

Aragorn and Gimli had finally begun to run on their own, without him dragging them. They were sprinting a ways behind him, but he could not afford to slow down and wait.

He felt frantically for any sign of his son in the part of his heart where he was supposed to be. There was nothing. It made him run all the faster.

About ten minutes later, he was very close. Aragorn and Gimli had caught up, and the ranger now grabbed the king's arm and held him back.

"Thranduil," he said, whispering. They were too close to risk being heard. "We must think of a plan. We can't just go barging in there."

"I can't feel him, Estel!" the king said in a panicky voice. "I can't feel him at all!"

Aragorn swallowed thickly, knowing what this probably meant, but he kept true to his name and tried to stay hopeful.

"All the more reason to get in there as soon as possible. Now, here's what we need to do…"

Legolas had a serene smile on his face as he died.

'_This is it,'_ he thought. _'Finally…'_

He drifted through the blackness, not cold but warm, like a blanket. It enveloped him and he welcomed the feeling of freedom. There was no more pain, no more torture, no more darkness, just…nothing.

"—Stupid elf! Wake up!"

A voice came, stifled by the blanket. A light appeared far away, destroying the comfort in the darkness, and pulling him toward it.

_No, no, no, no, no!_ he thought, as he was dragged toward it against his will. Everything was too bright, too bright! He couldn't see!

At the suddenness of being able to feel and breathe and think again, Legolas gasped. A scream escaped his mouth as he realized that he was back in the cold, unforgiving darkness. Not the beautiful kind, the horrible kind.

_Why would you do this to me? _he thought. _I was so close!_

However, he kept the vow of silence he had made with himself and remained silent. He became suddenly aware of hands on his shoulders. They dropped, and there was some shuffling sounds until the door finally opened by a hand from the inside.

"Ah princeling," said Cyras. "Don't worry. Today will be the last day. I have had my fun with you. It is time to get this over with so I can return to my home and build a life."

Legolas didn't say anything. It seems Cyras had not realized that he was almost dead, not asleep. He wouldn't have been able to tell, either, in the blackness that had greeted him upon his awakening.

"Come on," Cyras said, and he grabbed the leash. Legolas tried to get up, but as a wave of agony washed over him, he cried out and fell back to the ground. He didn't care if Cyras laughed. He himself would be dead soon, anyways.

"My, my, elf. You are weaker than I thought."

Cyras sighed and grabbed the leash once more. Not bothering to see if his captive was conscious or even alive, he dragged the elf by the collar into the courtyard. He was aware of the three pairs of eyes watching from the surrounding trees, and he smiled softly.

'_Oh my, it seems you have travelled thus far for nothing, for the elf will die today, no matter what you do.'_

Gimli couldn't help the rage that filled him as the elf was dragged into the courtyard. His normally silvery golden hair was so gray and dirtied that it was barely recognizable, and his clothes were torn and covered in bloodstains, especially on his back. He was completely limp, laying prone on the ground as he was dragged, and he didn't even seem to notice. Maybe he was unconscious.

The man leaned over him, and he turned the elf so he was laying on his back, which made the prince cringe.

His face was so dirty, and even paler than normal. His tunic was covered in blood around his stomach and shoulder, and Gimli shuddered at the memories of how he had gotten those wounds.

"Come on, stupid elf. Wake up," the man said, tapping Legolas lightly on the cheek. There was no response. Seemingly having reached the end of his patience, the man raised his hand and with a sharp, quick motion, slapped the elf hard on his right cheek.

The prince awoke with a start, instinctively rolling off his back and onto his stomach. He gasped for breath, and Gimli clenched his fists. Boy, would that man have his work cut out for him when he got down there!

Meanwhile, in a tree on the opposite side of the courtyard, Aragorn was also watching. His eyes darkened with anger as the man wrenched his friend up by the hair and deposited him so he was leaning against the post in the center of the field. The prince arched his back in agony as the wood prickled at his wounds.

"I think we should get in a little of everything today, princeling," the man said, walking in slow, taunting circles around the poles. Legolas kept his broken eyes on the ground, and Aragorn felt his heart break at the sadness within them.

"A little emotional, a little physical. A nice mix, don't you think?"

Still, Legolas did not look up.

The man pulled out some sort of sphere from his pocket.

From another tree, about halfway between Aragorn's and Gimli's hiding places, Thranduil was watching in growing horror.

The man put the sphere in the middle of both his hands, and closed his eyes.

Immediately, Legolas began to writhe. He growled and thrust his arms and legs around. He clutched at his head, and fell into a crouch, trying to make himself take up as little space as possible, it seemed.

Suddenly, it struck Thranduil that, other than growling, his son had made no noise the entire time. Legolas always had a snarky comment for anyone he hated, but no cunning remarks had been exchanged yet.

Legolas tore at his hair and gasped for breath. He scratched at himself, leaving tiny red trails on his paler than normal skin, and tears began to run down his face.

He watched in utter despair as his little Greenleaf broke before him.

Suddenly, the man turned. His eyes opened, and Legolas fell limp. It seemed to Thranduil that he was looking right at him, grinning.

He knew.

He could take it no longer. He leaped out of the tree with a battle cry, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw Gimli and Aragorn do the same. It seemed they had reached their breaking point, too.

But the man had known, and he was prepared. He whipped a knife from his belt, and a handful of Legolas's hair, and in a moment he had the elf's neck exposed and the knife pressed against it.

"Any of you move, and the princeling dies," he hissed, looking at them all with his icy eyes. They all came to a sudden halt, and they stared back at him.

The man pulled a small vial from his tunic, and three pairs of eyes, blue, grey, and brown, followed his movements. He smirked.

He carefully and with torturous slowness opened the vial with one hand, placing the knife upon the ground. He grasped the elf's chin and forced his jaw open, pouring some of the contents in. Legolas coughed and sputtered weakly, but eventually he was forced to swallow.

The man abruptly dropped the elf, which caused another groan. With renewed fury, Aragorn, Thranduil, and Gimli attacked the man. Whatever Legolas had been forced to drink, it couldn't have been good.

The sound of clashing metal filled the clearing, and Legolas saw his mother fighting with Veritinan before his eyes. His tears came anew, but through them he could see the blurry shape of the knife Cyras had dropped.

He dragged himself toward it, reaching out with his left hand, because his right shoulder burned when he moved his arm. As his hand closed around the hilt, he felt the sudden rush of power that comes with being armed.

Cyras had his back to him, and he was engaged in fierce combat with all three of his saviors, but mainly his father. Occasionally Gimli or Aragorn would get to have a short spar, but the man always turned back to the elf.

Legolas looked at his captor's back. There, the right side, was the spot.

His hand whipped up, and dizziness overwhelmed him. Shaking his head only seemed to make it worse, so he ignored it and focused solely on his task: to throw the knife, and throw it _well._

His arm was trembling, and he felt his body weakening.

_Now, I must do it now!_

His aim was true, and the knife whipped perfectly on course through the air. There was a dull, sickening sound as it entered Cyras's back.

The man crumpled to the ground, and Thranduil leaped back in surprise. Blood was already pooling around the fallen man, and he could see by the positioning that the knife had gone straight through his heart. It was a fast, painless death.

He looked to his son, who was extremely pale and sweating as he kneeled on the ground. Thranduil felt his heart fill with pride as he realized that Legolas, even in his weakened state, had killed the man.

Legolas's eyes fluttered closed, and he fell face-first onto the cold, hard earth.

_A/N: Oh my gosh! They managed to get there in time…or did they?_

_Please review! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!_


	13. Journal

_A/N: YAY!_

_I don't know why I just said that…_

_Chapter 12_

"Legolas!" Thranduil yelled in surprise. He flew to his son, landing ungracefully on his knees by his side. He carefully rolled his son over, and Legolas cried out as the wounds on his back reopened.

"Oh, ion-nin…" Thranduil murmured, running a hand over the pale face before him. "Oh, Legolas…"

Aragorn and Gimli appeared beside him, and they too kneeled by the elf. They each took a pale hand.

"Legolas, mellon-nin," Aragorn said softly. "Can you hear me?"

Legolas did not reply, but one watery blue eye opened halfway. He closed it once more as the liquid began to make its way slowly down his cheeks.

"Don't cry, laddie," Gimli said, and he frowned as he wiped the tears away with a grubby hand. Legolas didn't even give the tiniest hint of a smile at the nickname. "You're safe now."

A violent shudder wracked Legolas's frame, and he changed from crying silently to sobbing openly. Gimli didn't really know how to react. The Legolas he had known had always been strong, stubborn, and controlled. Thranduil, however, knew what he was doing.

The elvenking pulled his son into an embrace, careful to avoid his injuries, which wasn't easy. Legolas clutched at his father's clothes, looking for support, and Thranduil whispered soothing words in his ear as he cried his heart out.

The sound shattered Aragorn's heart even further. They had been captured together many times, and nothing close to this sort of a breakdown from the elf had ever occurred. He put his hand upon his friend's left shoulder and rubbed comforting circles in it, trying to stop the shudders that kept running through it.

"Oh, what did he do to you, ion-nin…?" Thranduil whispered, feeling his own tears prickling at his eyes. "What happened?"

Legolas suddenly went rigid, and he began to clutch even harder at his father's robes, crying even more vehemently. Thranduil held him close.

It was almost half an hour later when Legolas's sobs faded into small hiccups that eventually stopped as well. He went limp in his father's arms, and Thranduil brushed a few strands off the sweaty, tear-streaked face.

He lay his son down so that his head was upon his lap.

"Aragorn, Gloinion," he said quietly to avoid waking Legolas as he ran his hands through his hair, gently untangling it. "You should search the place. Get anything within it. We can bring anything useful or of value back to Mirkwood, and the healers can use it to see what it was he was forced to drink."

The two nodded, and they entered the fortress. Inside, they reached a long hallway. They tried o avoid looking at the bloodstains from where Legolas had been dragged outside, but there seemed to be only one other path, which they followed.

It lead to a large, ornate bedroom. There was a king-sized bed and a thick carpet, which the mud from their boots leaked into.

"You check those," said Aragorn to Gimli, pointing to a series of bookshelves on the left wall. He himself went to look at a set of drawers, which he opened with a loud creak.

There were many tunics inside. They were all made of thick, soft fabric, and they came in a variety of bright colors, mostly red and blue. He sifted through them, before promptly dropping them on the ground in disgust as he realized that they belonged to the man.

He left them on the floor as he went over to Gimli.

"Have you found anything?" he asked, and Gimli shook his head.

"Only healing and sorcery books," he said. "That's all…Hey, wait, what's this?"

Between two large books, there was a small spine that indicated that there was a much smaller one stuffed between them. The dwarf took the small book out and opened to the first page carefully, for the pages were old and worn.

"_June 15, 3016,"_ it read. "_Today father told me about the curse that comes with my eyes. I was very angry and upset at first, but I have accepted it now. I have decided that I will finish this whole thing by the time I reach twenty-five years, so that I may return and continue my life and still have much of it ahead of me. That gives me seven years. I believe this is plenty of time to find one elf, especially the famous Prince of Mirkwood. Then it all comes down to disposing of him."_

Gimli slowly lifted his head, uncertainty in his eyes. He handed the book to Aragorn, who read the passage as well, his eyes widening throughout. When he finally looked up, they shared a look of horror.

"His journal," Aragorn said. The answers to all of their questions was in their hands.

They were in a trancelike state as they left the room and went back down the other hallway, the one marked by elven bloodstains. They found only one room at the end of there, as well.

It was dreadfully dark within. Aragorn felt along the wall with his hands. He soon came to a torch holder, which had a few sticks and a flint within. He groped with the flint for a few minutes before he was rewarded with a small flame. He let the twigs ignite, and soon there was enough light to take in the scene around him.

It was a damp, cold room with walls made completely of stone. The far wall had a shelf running along it, upon which was placed a variety of items used in healing.

The worst thing, however, was the blood spattered all over the floor and walls. It had a silvery tinge, and Aragorn suddenly felt sick. The room was covered in Legolas's blood.

Trying to avoid the dried puddles of red, he quickly gathered everything on the shelves into his arms and he hastily left the room, and Gimli followed him. They entered the sunlight again together, leaving the place behind them forever.

_A/N: Woohoo! Three days in a row with updates! I feel proud. :D. Elladan and Elrohir make an appearance in the next chapter! Yay! I can't wait (well, yes I can, but that's a figure of speech, guys)._

_PLEASE REVIEW!_


	14. Elladan and Elrohir

_A/N: YAY! GO SONS OF ELROND!_

_Chapter 13_

Thranduil looked down sadly upon his son. He had worked most of the knots out of his beautiful hair, but it was still dirty and dull.

Aragorn and the dwarf emerged from the building, each holding various items.

Suddenly, Legolas began to shiver. It began as a slight tremble, barely noticeable, but it grew and grew until he was shuddering violently.

Aragorn ran over, placing his hand upon the prince's forehead. It was hot and getting hotter.

"We need to—" Aragorn began, but he stopped abruptly and stood, drawing his sword.

"Who goes there?" he yelled into the forest. If he squinted, he could see two figures atop horses, riding slowly about twenty feet away.

The figures stopped their horses and turned toward him.

"Estel?"

Aragorn's heart recognized the voices, which had called in perfect unison, before his mind did. And his feet, it seemed, listened to his heart over his head.

He ran to them at the same time as they dismounted and began toward him as well.

"Elladan! Elrohir!" he cried joyously, jumping into the embrace they were offering him. There was so much love and trust in their hug that he felt completely safe and secure. They were his big brothers. They would take care of everything.

"Mae govannen, gwador-nin," Elladan said, drawing back. He looked Aragorn over. "How are you faring?"

Elrohir listened to his brothers exchange greetings, and he peered past Aragorn. He could've sworn he had heard more than one voice.

His eyes widened as he saw the king of Mirkwood, the dwarf Gimli, and a broken body shuddering uncontrollably.

"Legolas!" he said, pushing past Aragorn and running over to the group. He had bounded to them within a few seconds. Taking in his broken body, he put a hand upon Legolas's forehead. He drew back his hand in shock. It was boiling hot.

Elladan appeared beside him and gasped at the sight of their friend.

"Legolas…" the older twin said, and he shared a look with Elrohir. This was very, very bad.

"How did this happen?" Elladan asked Thranduil in shock.

"He came back from the Quest, and I wanted to surprise him so I met him about an hour's ride from the palace. He got shot with an arrow and he was stabbed in the stomach trying to protect me." Thranduil gulped.

"He was captured by a man with the same eyes as Veritinan had. We don't know if it was him or how he had the eyes, but he had Legolas for four days…" he glanced meaningfully at the human body lying motionless on the ground a few yards away.

Elrohir pulled his brother away and began whispering to him so the others could not hear.

"This is bad, Elladan. Legolas needs help, _now_."

"Aye," Elladan said, glancing back at the prince, who continued shivering. "Something has happened to him, and I think these wounds are deeper than just the body. Otherwise his super-fast healing would've begun already. There must be more."

"We need to get him to Ada," Elrohir said. "That may be the only way to save him."

"But Thranduil, Estel, and the dwarf are on foot. They will not be able to get there fast enough. And we cannot leave them alone."

"One of us has to go ahead alone with Legolas, on one of the horses."

"Yes. At a fast pace, we can make it there in under a day, riding hard."

"I should go," Elrohir said.

"No, I should. Should anything happen, I am the better warrior," Elladan argued.

"Yes, but I am the better healer," Elrohir replied. "And Ada can use as many hands as he can when we get there. Besides, no one will attack us. We just came down that very same path, and there was no one around for leagues."

"That doesn't mean there isn't anyone there now."

"Ada will need me, Elladan. So will Legolas," Elrohir said, voice grave.

Elladan sighed in resignation.

"Fine. We should be a day or two behind you."

Elrohir gave his twin a blinding smile, and Elladan shook his head in exasperation.

"How do you do it?" he muttered. "How are you so much better at getting what you want than me?"

Elrohir laughed, turning back to the group. Estel was frantically trying to stop Legolas's shaking, but it wasn't working. If anything, the prince's trembling grew even fiercer.

"Elladan and I think that it would be best for me to ride to our home with Legolas," Elrohir said, addressing all of them. "I can get there in under a day. Elladan would be your guide to Imaldris, and you would reach it a few days after." He saw that Thranduil was about to protest, so he held up his hand.

"We only suggest such a thing because there are only two horses, and Legolas needs to be brought to our father as quickly as possible, and my help will be needed to heal him."

Thranduil was about to tell the twins that _he_ was Legolas's father, thank you very much, and therefore he should be the one to bring him, but he stopped and thought about what Elrohir had said. That might be the best way, really.

"Alright," he said. "Elrohir will go with Legolas."

The twins looked surprised at how suddenly he had given in, but they smiled and Elrohir mounted his horse. Elladan and Thranduil carefully passed Legolas up to him, and the prince moaned in pain. Elrohir held him tightly against his chest to prevent him from falling off. He gave a small, worried smile and spurred his horse into a gallop.

Within a minute he had disappeared.

It was many hours later when Legolas stopped trembling abruptly. Elrohir stopped the horse for a moment to check on the prince.

He felt the other elf's forehead. It had cooled a little. He was completely motionless. Elrohir placed his hand unconsciously on Legolas's neck, feeling for a pulse. That might help him find out what ailed his friend. He held it there for a full minute, but nothing came.

"By the Valar!" Elrohir exclaimed, jumping off the horse and laying Legolas on the ground. "No! No, Legolas! We haven't reached Ada yet! You can't give up on me!"

There was no response, and the healing mode came out of Elrohir's mind. He began to breathe into Legolas's mouth. Ten times he did this, and then he pushed with all his might on the spot on Legolas's chest, just as his Ada had taught him.

He repeated this over and over again, as if in a trance. Legolas couldn't be gone! No, it couldn't be! He would wake up and Ada would heal him, and they would all be fine.

But the unmoving chest of his friend refused to move up and down.

"Come on, Legolas!" he cried. "Breathe for me, mellon-nin, please!"

He tried one last time. He had to accept it. If Legolas did not wake up this time, he probably wouldn't ever again.

_A/N: Ah, it's been a while since I have ended on a cliffy like that, hasn't it?_

_PLEASE REVIEW!_


	15. Not You Too, Elrohir

_A/N: OH MY GOSH~! I have somebody watching me right now so it is hard to write…:P_

_Chapter 14_

"Come on, Legolas! Just _breathe_!" Elrohir screamed. "Please, mellon-nin!"

There was no response.

"You can't die on me!"

"Come on, Legolas," Elrohir said in a panicky voice, picking up the elf. "We'll get you to Ada. We're only a minute away, keep your mind alive for a little longer, please!"

Elrond was in his study when he heard a loud commotion in the courtyard of his home.

"Ada!" a voice screamed, and he recognized it to be Elrohir's. He could only tell it was not Elladan's because Elrohir's voice had a more flowing sound to it.

"Ada! Ada, come down here, please! It's Legolas! He's stopped breathing! Please help me, Ada!" the voice was choked and full of tears.

Elrond was up and running down the stairs within a second. Why was the son of Thranduil at his home? What had happened? His thoughts were still buzzing around his head when he arrived at the courtyard.

His son was sitting upon his horse, a being in his arms.

Elrond gasped at the state of the prince of Mirkwood. As he came closer he saw all the blood around his wounds, and the collar hanging limply around his neck. His chest was not moving.

"Elrohir!" he cried, running over to the two. He grabbed the younger elf from his son's arms and threw his limp body onto the ground. He immediately began to breathe into the mouth of the prince. He thrust his hands into the spot just below Legolas's heart, urging it to work hard once more.

"Come on, Legolas!" he cried. "Come on, Thranduilion! Legolas, lasto beth nin, tolo dan nan galad!"

Suddenly, there came a large, shuddering breath, just as Elrond was about to lose hope. Elrohir nearly fainted out of relief, and he dismounted quickly, and he fell to his knees by his friend's side.

"Legolas! You're alive!"

There came a weak cough. The prince opened his eyes and stared up at the other elf.

"Oh, Legolas…" Elrohir felt tears begin to roll down his cheek. "Oh, mellon-nin, I thought I'd lost you…"

Legolas didn't reply, he only continued to stare up at Elrohir. He looked at him with no emotion other than sadness within his eyes, and it broke the heart of the son of Elrond.

"Mellon-nin…Oh, my friend, what has happened to you? Why have you been broken so?"

_I deserve it,_ Legolas thought faintly. _I killed her. I deserve to be broken. I deserve to die._

"Get a room ready in the healers' wing!" Elrond yelled at some nearby guards, and they were quick to scuttle up the stairs to carry out his order.

Pain flooded the broken eyes as Elrond picked the elf up bridal style and pain flared on his back, but there was no other reaction.

"Oh, penneth," Elrond said. "It's going to be alright, tithen-pen. It's going to be alright."

_That's what I told myself every day he had me,_ Legolas thought. _And I was wrong._

Elladan, Thranduil, Aragorn, and Gimli were preparing to leave. They had gathered all of the things from within the building, and now they were packing their things for the journey.

Suddenly stopping in his packing, Thranduil looked over to where the body of Cyras lay. He got up slowly and began to move toward it.

"What are you doing, Thranduil?" Aragorn asked. There was no reply.

The elvenking rolled over the body so it was lying on its back. He tried to avoid looking at the face, with the eyes wide open. He gently shut the lids. They would trouble his son no longer.

He reached into the pocket of the man's tunic, and pulled out the two things he was looking for.

The vial still had a few drops of the liquid in it. Maybe that could help Elrond find out an antidote.

The sphere was still glowing, very faintly. He took that a sign that Legolas was at least still living.

He stood up and kicked the body. It flew about five feet before it landed ungracefully on the ground. The king turned on his heel in disgust and returned to the group.

"Now," he said. "We can leave."

The healing room was full of elves bustling around. They prepared a bed, made sure the shelves were stocked, and talked in hushed tones, guessing about who their patient would be. There were many thinking it would be Elladan or Aragorn, since they were the more risky members of the family. Elrohir barely ever was injured within their halls, but a few were determined it would be him.

The door handle turned slowly, and the elves all stood up, waiting for Elrond and whoever was injured to enter.

The door swung open, revealing their respected lord and the younger elf in his arms.

Their hushed whispering stopped completely, and several cries of astonishment and grief were heard as they recognized the elf. It was Legolas Thranduilion, crown prince of Greenwood. It was the elf who had visited at every opportunity since he was an elfling, and who always brought joy and laughter to the halls of Rivendell.

"Please, my friends," Elrond said, "Elrohir and will attend to the prince. Please leave the room."

A few of the healers were about to object, but one look from Elrond silenced them and they all left the room hurriedly. Elrond entered the now empty room, and Elrohir came in behind him. The elf-lord placed the pale body upon the bed. The prince's eyes betrayed his suffering as he watched Elrond straighten and motion to Elrohir to come closer.

"Come, Elrohir. We need to examine his wounds and determine their extent," Elrond said, and he thought about the best way to remove the elf's tunic. The back was mostly shredded, but getting the front off without causing any pain could be a challenge.

"I think the best way to remove his tunic is to cut it off," he told his son, and Elrohir nodded. "We could also take the collar off. I wonder why Thranduil didn't before. One of the worst things about the last time this happened was the collar, in his mind."

"They didn't have time," Elrohir mumbled. "They had only just got to him when Elladan and I arrived."

Elrond nodded. "Could you grab a small knife from that shelf over there?" he pointed to one. Elrohir went over to it and looked through all the knives, eventually selecting one that was a little longer than his hand and not very sharp, so that he wouldn't cut the prince. He turned around, knife in hand.

Legolas paled drastically, and his eyes were flooded with fear.

_No, not you too, Elrohir,_ he thought. Maybe his father and the Fellowship really had meant to hurt him. Maybe the glee within their eyes as they brought the whip down was real. What other reason would there be for Elrohir to join them in their hatred of him?

He couldn't stop the tears that began to roll down his cheeks. He put his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

_No, no, no, no, no!_

Elrohir came closer.

"Legolas? What's wrong, mellon-nin?"

He came even closer, not realizing the knife he still held in his right was the cause for his friend's distress.

Legolas clutched at his head and rolled into a ball.

_Please no! Please, Elrohir, no!_

He began to scream.

"It's the knife, Elrohir!" Elrond yelled over the sound in sudden realization as he saw where the son of Thranduil was staring with such fear. "He thinks you are going to hurt him!"

The knife clattered to the ground, and the screaming came to an abrupt stop, replaced by heavy breathing.

"Why would I...Legolas, why would you think…" Elrohir said quietly, tears entering his own eyes. "Oh, mellon-nin, what on Arda has happened to you?"

He came to embrace Legolas, but the other elf shied away from his touch.

An expression of hurt crossed Elrohir's expression, and he ran out of the room, tears running down his face.

The door slammed.

_A/N: Arrrgggghhhh! Why has FF been down today? :P. It's still saying I only have had four visitors all day…_

_P.S. the elvish means: Legolas, hear my voice and come back to the light!_

_On another note, I got a hamster today! Her name is Lemonade. She is so cute! YAY!_

_PLEASE REVIEW, BROS._


	16. Broken

_A/N: Dramatic Elrohir angst this chapter! And Glorfindel comes in (YAY). And Thranduil and co. should be arriving any minute now!_

_Chapter 16_

Legolas looked at the door that had just shut with haunted eyes. Elrond sighed, and he took the pale cheek in his hand and stroked it with the pad of his thumb. The eyes turned to him, so empty that it cut his heart like a knife.

"Legolas, I am going to give you some tea," Elrond said. Maybe explaining exactly what he was going to do would help the young elf accept it more easily. "It's going to put you to sleep, but it will make it so you don't feel any pain for a while. Is that okay with you?"

Legolas's eyes stayed the same. There was no reaction at all.

"Legolas? Please respond, penneth. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

_Please, Elrond, let your hand slip. Grab the wrong herb. Make a mistake. Choose a poison instead of a healer so that I can leave this world forever,_ Legolas thought, and he looked up at the elf-lord, praying he would understand.

"Please, Legolas, nod if you are alright with it. I don't want to hurt you."

Elrond smiled as the prince gave a barely noticeable nod, and he lifted his hand from his cheek.

"Good. Thank you, tithen-pen. I'll go make it now."

Legolas watched with disinterested eyes as Elrond brewed his tea. Soon, a pleasant aroma filled the room, and Elrond reappeared, holding a mug.

"Drink this, Legolas," he said, and he reached behind the other elf, who leaned on his hand heavily as he held him in an upright position. The prince's lips were drawn tight with pain as Elrond lifted the cup to them and gently poured the warm contents down the throat of the elf, who suddenly felt excruciatingly thirsty.

"You didn't have any food or water while you were there, did you, Legolas?" Elrond said with a sigh as he saw how eagerly the young elf drank the mixture. No wonder his condition was so extreme.

Legolas's eyes fluttered closed and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Elrond paused for a moment, checking to make sure that Legolas was fully asleep, before bending down to pick up the knife from where Elrohir had dropped it. He began cutting off the tunic, working in heavy silence.

There was a knock at the door, and, not even waiting for permission to enter, a tall, blonde figure with a commanding aura stepped into the room.

"Glorfindel," Elrond greeted, not looking up. The balrog-slayer's eyes widened, and came forward to let his hand rest on Legolas's hair protectively as he stepped forward in surprise.

"What has happened, Elrond?" Glorfindel said, looking at the battered soul before him. "What has been done to him?"

Elrond sighed. "I don't know much myself. Elrohir rode in today, and he had stopped breathing. I managed to save him in time, but I still don't know if he will make it. He's fading, Glorfindel," he said, looking up gravely.

"I don't think there is much we can do other than heal his wounds and hope for the best."

"That may be so," Glorfindel replied, eyes saddening as he looked upon the younger elf.

"I assume that Elladan will be coming home soon as well, probably with some guests, Thranduil and Estel among them. Maybe we will learn more when they arrive," Elrond said.

"And where is Elrohir?" Glorfindel asked.

Elrond sighed. "When he got the knife to cut off Legolas's tunic so we could look at his wounds, Legolas thought that Elrohir was going to hurt him with it. It broke Elrohir's heart to see him so fragile. He left."

Glorfindel nodded. He looked to where Elrond was still trying to remove the tunic from Legolas's shoulder, which it was attached to by dried blood. He winced.

He looked at Legolas's other wounds. There was the one on his shoulder, a fairly deep stab wound on his stomach, and a messy array of cuts in crisscross shapes across his stomach.

"Heat some water, please, Glorfindel," Elrond said, but there was no reply from the elf-lord. His eyes were seemingly transfixed on the wounds of the prince, and his face grew paler and paler and paler.

"Glorfindel!" Elrond exclaimed, and he caught the other elf as he fell to his knees. "Glorfindel, what ails you?"

The other elf did not reply, he just tried to control his breathing.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I'm all right," he said after a few moments.

Elrond sighed, knowing that he wouldn't get anything more from Glorfindel. He went to the fireplace which stood on the opposite side of the room. He placed some cloths in the water that he had boiled to use for the tea, and set to work cleaning the wounds. Legolas flinched every time he probed the wounds, but it had to be done.

Glorfindel helped in silence. He brought new cloths when Elrond needed them and brought the herbs that the healer wanted, and no words passed between them other than the occasional request for a particular item.

After he had stitched the deepest wounds on the front of his patients and bandaged them, Elrond decided it was time to turn him onto his back.

"There's more?" Glorfindel said in astonishment when Elrond stated it was time to check the wounds on his back. Elrond only nodded, and together they turned the prince so that he was lying on his stomach.

It was much easier to remove the tattered pieces of Legolas's tunic than it had been before, so they were quickly done. Elrond picked a salve off of one of the shelves and began to apply it to the whip marks on Legolas's back, and Glorfindel ran his fingers through the dull hair that was splayed across the pillow.

Elrond's brows creased as he worked, and Glorfindel knew it wasn't from effort or worry for his patient.

"Go, Elrond," he said, suddenly breaking the heavy silence that had settled in the room. Elrond looked up in surprise.

"I know that you worry for Elrohir. Go to him. I am perfectly capable of putting some bandages on," Glorfindel said, giving the other elf a knowing elf. Elrond was about to protest, but Glorfindel stood and gave him a little shove in the direction of the door.

"_Go,_ Elrond."

"But I can't leave Legolas—"

"Just _go,_ Elrond. Please, mellon-nin, this isn't just for you. I need some time to think about my feelings, too, and I can't do it in front of other people, not even you," Glorfindel admitted, putting his head down in shame. Finally Elrond nodded in acceptance, cursing himself as he left. How had he not seen that Glorfindel needed to be alone after such a revelation about what had happened to Legolas? Now he had made his friend uncomfortable.

He arrived at Elrohir's door, and he knocked on it quietly.

"Elrohir?" he said, pushing the door open without waiting for permission. He saw his son's still form on the bed, and he rushed over in concern. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that his younger son was only sleeping. Elrohir's grey eyes were glazed over and half-lidded. There were tear-tracks on the fair face, and he had obviously cried himself to sleep.

Elrond sat on the edge of the bed, running his hand over his son's dark hair. After a few minutes, the eyes focused, and Elrond smiled down at Elrohir.

"Ada?" he said, and Elrond noticed the beginning of tears in his eyes. "What's wrong? Has something happened to Legolas?"

"Nay, ion-nin. He is with Glorfindel. I merely wanted to come and see if you were alright," Elrond said.

"I am, Ada," Elrohir said quietly. "I was just hurt by the way Legolas was scared of me, but I know it's not his fault."

"That is true. None of this is his fault, and it is our job to help him overcome it."

"Why has this happened to him, Ada? I have seen him injured, tortured, half-dead, but I've never seen him so…broken." A single tear began to make its way down Elrohir's cheek, and Elrond had begun to reach to wipe it away when a loud voice echoed through the halls of his home.

"ELROND! COME, QUICKLY!"

_A/N: Another cliffie! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!_

_Whose voice do you think it is? Tell me in your reviews!_


	17. Hurting

_A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! Most people thought that the voice was Glorfindel's. Is it? Yes._

_Chapter 17_

Elrond shot up from the bed, grabbing Elrohir's wrist and starting to sprint down the hall.

A few seconds later, they burst into the healing room, and were greeted with a sight that cut them to the very core.

"Legolas! Please, penneth, let me help you!" Glorfindel cried, reaching for the younger elf.

_Please no! _thought Legolas. _I don't want the ones I love to hurt me any longer. Please don't touch me!_

Another bout of pain seized his stomach, and he clutched at it, willing the pain to go away. How it burned!

A hand brushed against his shoulder. He flinched away from it. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone?

Suddenly, the strangest and most painful feeling overcame him. His stomach was twisting, shrinking. He cried out and doubled over. There wasn't enough space for anything inside it, not even air. He felt bile rise in the back of his throat, and he opened his mouth. The acidic vomit, which contained barely any food since it had been five days since he had eaten, covered the sheets, and he heard Elrond yell something.

"Legolas! All we want to do is help you, Thranduilion! We would never hurt you!" Elrond cried. He reached to stroke the hair of the prince, in an attempt to calm him down.

_STOP IT! _Legolas screamed at them in his mind. _STOP IT, STOP IT, STOP IT!_

He leaped up with a growl, grabbing the lord of Imaldris's wrist and shoving him to the ground.

Thranduil felt a pang of pain in his stomach as they entered Rivendell, and he winced. He pressed his hand against it, but the pain would not leave him, even as they walked through the courtyard and received greetings from many guards, it persisted, and, it seemed, grew even stronger.

There were tears running down the face of the being above him. Elrond couldn't move at all. He was held completely secure against the ground, and the only sound he could hear was the harsh breathing, wracked with sobs, that came from the mouth of the elven prince.

"Legolas! What are you doing?!" Glorfindel cried, grabbing the elf from behind in an attempt to pull him off of Elrond. The fact that he had done so unexpectedly, however, made the other elf whirl around. He felt a hand thwacked against his cheek.

Thranduil, Aragorn, Gimli, and Elladan began to make their way to the healing room that the guard at the door had told them belonged to Legolas. Elrond and Elrohir had yet to make an appearance.

They were about fifteen feet from the door when he heard the yelling, and he began to run.

Legolas growled at the elf who he had just hit.

"Legolas!" Glorfindel breathed as he saw the anger in the glowering eyes in front of him. "Why are you doing this? Please, Legolas! We want you to recover, and you're pushing us away!"

Suddenly, the anger was drained from the eyes, and there came a sudden, deep sadness, and the blue pools seemed to go unimaginably deep. He fell to his knees.

_Please don't hurt me!_ He thought. _I'm sorry for fighting back, I'm sorry I defied you! But please, please, don't touch me!_

The pain in his stomach intensified.

The hands came again, and he screamed his heart out in fear.

Thranduil burst into the room and took in the scene within seconds. Legolas was in the center of the room, crouched, screaming. Elrohir, Elrond, and Glorfindel were surrounding him, reaching for him.

Suddenly, four words, repeated over and over, entered his mind through the bond he shared with his son.

_Please don't touch me, please don't touch me, please don't touch me!_

"Stop touching him!" he yelled, and four heads jumped away from the body and their heads snapped to look at him. He rushed down to where his son was, shuddering in relief.

"Ion-nin…" he whispered. The face didn't look up.

_Ion-nin…_ he said to his son through the bond. The face did turn up this time, and he smiled gently down at the pale, tear-streaked face.

From Legolas's perspective, that grin was not a comforting one, but an evil one. Images of the whipping flashed through his mind, and he felt a sob escape his throat.

Thranduil saw a few horrifying images flash before his eyes. Himself, grinning cruelly, bringing a whip down upon the shoulders of his son, over and over.

_Please no, Ada,_ came a small, shuddering thought. _I love you, Ada, please don't hurt me!_

_I would never hurt you, ion-nin,_ he said, even as his own mind reeled. When on Arda had Legolas gotten _those_ memories? _That wasn't real. Please, ion-nin. Trust me._

He accompanied the thought with a sudden embrace of his son. He pulled Legolas close, wondering at the coldness of his body.

Legolas stayed rigid for a few moments, but he eventually leaned into his father's embrace. An overwhelming tiredness overcame him.

He noted, with relief, that as his consciousness faded, so did the pain in his stomach.

Thranduil heard the sigh of relief that came from all of the occupants of the room when Legolas finally fell unconscious. Aragorn and Gimli were standing in the doorway, looking on with grim expressions. Elladan had moved to stand by his twin, and Elrond and Glorfindel stood beside them.

Thranduil took his son's still form in his arms and lay him on the bed. Still, there was no reaction from the rest of the occupants of the room, other than an awkward stare.

"What?" he asked after a second of staring back. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"How did you do that?" Glorfindel asked suddenly. "You calmed him down, and you didn't even speak a word to him."

Thranduil sighed. "We have a bond," he said. "You know that. I can speak to him through it." He paused. "And now I know something of what has been done to him."

"What is it?" Elrond said, prepared for the worst.

"He was forced to see images of me, and probably some of you as well, hurting him. We whipped him, over and over." He took a deep breath and tried to force the image of his own cruel smile out of his mind.

Elladan and Elrohir looked stricken, as did Gimli and Aragorn.

"And the whipping was real," Elrond said. "Because he does have the lashes on his back."

"If it wasn't there, he would've known because of the lack of pain and blood that the experience wasn't real," Aragorn said. "I suspect that the man did it himself, but he created an illusion to make it seem like it was us."

The group paused, taking it in.

"That's so cruel!" Elladan said suddenly. "Why would anyone do that to any other living being, especially Legolas? He's so…warm, you know?"

"I know," said Thranduil. "He was one of the only things that brought light to Mirkwood during the dark times."

They continued to speak of how Legolas had been as the sun set, and then they lit candles and continued. It was late in the night when Elrond finally suggested that they all retire.

"That is a good idea," Glorfindel. "Estel, Thranduil, Gimli, you all can make yourselves at home in any of the guest rooms."

The three nodded their thanks, and they exited the room. Glorfindel and Elrond left as well.

"Could you blow at the candle, 'Dan?" Elrohir said, and Elladan nodded.

"Goodnight, Legolas," he whispered as he blew out the only source of light in the room.

_A/N: Sorry for long time no update! Been busy!_

_PLEASE REVIEW, BROS._


	18. A Dream

_A/N: So tired…:P Not much to say…_

_Chapter 18_

A scream in the dead of night pierced the hearts of every living being in all of Rivendell. Every elf jolted awake in their beds, clutching at their ears, which rang, and then their hearts, which ached. Even the guards outside heard it, and the caretakers at the stable tried to calm their horses' frantic whinnying, as well as their own fluttering hearts.

There were seven, in particular, that were startled by the sound. But instead of following the same protocol as the others, they immediately leaped out of their beds, and they were all running down the halls from their respective rooms and toward the healing wing at full speed.

Elladan, Elrohir, and Elrond arrived first, because their chambers were closest to the room they were headed to.

Legolas had known it was all a dream. Now, it was all dark again. He hadn't been saved. He was in his cell. He was alone, and Cyras would come back eventually, and it would all continue.

He couldn't take it anymore. He screamed and screamed and screamed.

Elrond and his sons fumbled around in the darkness. The elven lord grouped around on the shelves, eventually coming upon a candle and the matches next to it. The screaming continued, and it drowned out his curses when he dropped the match.

He searched around on the floor with his hands, eventually finding it after feeling around for almost a full minute. The entire time, the cries did not cease.

He struck the match and lit the candle. At that moment, he saw Thranduil, Aragorn, Gimli, and Glorfindel enter the room, panting.

Legolas suddenly saw a spark of golden light, and his screams faded into silence. It illuminated the face of Elrond, who looked upon him in concern. Not knowing whether it was real, he held out his hands, much like a child would when requesting that a parent pick them up. Elrond came over and placed the candle in his hands, holding them within his own so they would stop shaking.

He looked in relief upon the tiny light, and he tried to calm his racing heart. His panting eventually faded into quiet breathing, and another light flared from the torches on the wall. Elladan blew out the candle he had used to light it.

And still he held his own tiny light in his hands, and Elrond didn't try to take it away from him. He simply held it there as Legolas stared at it. It was the one thing he had that was his. He wouldn't let anyone take it from him.

In a sudden flurry of activity, they were all surrounding him. Elrond took the candle, and he was about to cry out for it, but it was placed only about a foot away, on the small table by his bedside. He reached out and took it back.

Elladan was holding his hair back so it wouldn't get caught in the flame. Elrohir was speaking to him softly, Glorfindel was holding his hand, Gimli was patting his knee, and his Ada was supporting his grip on the candle. Elrond reappeared, holding a cup of water and trying to practically force it down his throat. He whimpered at the way they came so close to him.

"Whoa, whoa," came a voice from behind them. "Give him some space, everyone. You're scaring him."

They parted like the sea for Aragorn, who made his way to his friend. He kneeled by the bedside, taking the long-fingered hand within two of his.

"Hello, mellon-nin," he said. Legolas was looking on with interest. Not fear or gratefulness in his eyes, only mild interest. "How are you?"

There was a small shrug of the shoulders, and Aragorn smiled.

"Well, that's better than bad, isn't it?" he said. "Why don't you drink some of this? It will make you feel better if you have some fluids, Legolas." As he took the cup of water from Elrond and offered it to Legolas, he unconsciously tucked his hair behind his ear with his other hand.

Legolas suddenly wrenched his hand away at the sight of the rounded ears on his friend. He shuddered as he thought of the same ears, rounded and human, on Cyras behind a curtain of blonde hair. He closed his eyes tightly and shrunk back into the pillows.

Thranduil took the cup from Aragorn silently and stood in front of his son.

_'Legolas, please, ion-nin, look at me,'_ he said, and he touched Legolas's chin with two fingers and made it so they were looking eye to eye. '_You need some water, Legolas, otherwise your body won't be able to heal._'

He held the cup out to Legolas, who took it slowly and stared at it for a while. Everyone in the room held their breath, wondering if the stubborn elf would accept the offering. Eventually he looked up at his father with pleading eyes.

"Alright, alright, we'll leave," Thranduil said, seeing the question in his gaze. "But do you promise to drink it after we leave?"

Legolas gave a small nod, so Glorfindel blew out the torch, but he left the small candle on the table ablaze. The man, dwarf, and elves filed out of the room. "Goodnight, Legolas. Sleep well, ion-nin," Thranduil said. The door shut with a click.

"His lack of speech this entire time worries me," Elrond said, looking at the others who had just left the room.

"Aye, me too," said Glorfindel. The others nodded in agreement.

"He should've atleast said _something_ by now," said Gimli. "The silence seems so unnatural."

"Tomorrow, our main goal should be convincing him to speak to us," said Aragorn.

"We also have some things that may be of use," said Thranduil. "And we can tell you what we know of the story. But it shall all have to wait until morning."

Legolas waited until their footsteps faded.

'_I'm sorry, Ada,_' Legolas thought.

He poured the water onto the floor.

_A/N: Woooo! Fifteen minutes to post this before tomorrow._

_PLEASE REVIEW GUYZ._


	19. Denetinei

_A/N: I am so annoyed at my little brother right now. He's been pestering me to draw a poster of him and five of his little friends as Pokémon masters. -_-._

_Chapter 19_

It was the next morning, and Legolas hadn't woken up yet. His eyes were still closed, and looked unnatural compared to his normal way of sleeping. He was still as pale as the sheets he lay within, and his body looked very thin and fragile, as if it would break under the mere weight of the light blankets on top of him.

Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, Thranduil, Aragorn, and Gimli were gathered in Elrond's study, and they were seated in a large circle. Thranduil, Aragorn, and Gimli looked significantly healthier, but that was just because they had had time to bathe and change their tattered clothes.

"So," Elrond said. "We need the entire story from the beginning."

"Aye," said Aragorn. "I shall begin the tale, for only Gimli and I were there before Thranduil arrived."

He told them of their journey from Gondor to Greenwood, and how they had planned on staying for a few days before Aragorn and Gimli would leave for Gimli's home, after which Aragorn would return to his kingdom. He continued to say how Legolas had disappeared into the trees, but when he returned he kept feeling in his heart that someone was nearby, so he went to look around, and had found Thranduil.

They continued to tell the tale, each adding little pieces of their own experience. When they came to the part about the rescue, Thranduil brought out the sphere, which was glowing just as faintly as before, and the vial of liquid. Aragorn brought out the journal.

Elrond took the vial and opened it carefully, sniffing cautiously at the contents. He looked up.

"It's Denetinei," he said, looking up. "Why on Arda would the man give this to him? It remains totally inactive in the patient's bloodstream. It doesn't even do anything, unless…" he paled drastically.

"What is it?!" Gimli said. "Unless what?"

Elrond took the sphere, hands shaking.

"It can't be!" he said. "Glorfindel—"

He took one look at Glorfindel's face, which was filled with grief.

"Oh, no," Elrond said. "Oh, no."

"What is it?" Thranduil said, standing up worriedly. "What is it, Elrond?"

"It…Could it really be that, Glorfindel?" Elrond said.

Glorfindel looked up at him. "It is. It seems so clear now that I think about it. The man probably made him…He has so much pain in his life already, Elrond. The man will have taken advantage of that…" he lay his head in his hands, and his long golden hair flowed around his form.

"For Valar's sake, Elrond, _what is it?_" Thranduil cried. "I deserve to know! _I am his father!_"

"He…he made Legolas relive everything that he went through, all those years ago," Elrond replied quietly. "And probably made him believe things that he never would've even thought of through illusions."

"_Everything_?" Thranduil said, a look of utter shock on his face. "He made him go through everything again?"

"Probably," Elrond said. "That would explain everything."

Thranduil slumped back into his chair, tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh, ion-nin…" he mumbled. Glorfindel looked up.

"I have seen this kind of torture inflicted on others. A few of my friends, many millennia ago, had it done to them. One sailed, and two…faded."

Everyone was completely stunned.

"And the Denetinei. The only thing it reacts to is the poison that allows the sphere to be used, and it…" Elrond trailed off, not wanting to believe the truth himself. He moved to one of the shelves. "This is a common pain-relieving mixture, and it contains a tiny amount of the poison that connects with the sphere. And, well…Just watch."

He poured the mixture into a wooden bowl, and he took the vial and teased the last drop of Denetinei from it.

Immediately, the mixture began to sizzle. It crackled and fizzled, and it soon began to eat away at the bowl. Soon it was completely disintegrated, and Elrond threw some water on it. It slowed to a stop.

"And that's just with a tiny amount," Elrond said. "This is what will happen every time the two combine within Legolas. That is probably why he was in so much pain yesterday. It will strike again, in a different organ each time, and eventually it will kill him."

There was a silence, and everyone's individual thoughts were whirling.

"No!" Aragorn finally said. He jumped up, but then sunk to his knees, tears beginning to run down his face. "No! This can't be happening, not to Legolas!"

The chaos began. Thranduil was staring at the air in front of him, emotionless, except for one crystal tear going slowly down his right cheek. Glorfindel, finally letting go of his pride, began to sob at the fate of the young elf to whom he had always been a role model. Elladan and Elrohir were crying their hearts out, holding onto each other for support. Aragorn remained on the ground, and Gimli was shaking his head in denial, shock in his eyes.

This continued for several minutes, until finally everyone but Glorfindel, who could not stop himself, had run out of tears to cry. The elven lord continued to cry silently, for he had seen the pain and suffering caused by what Legolas had been through first hand, even as the others' sadness turned to determination, and in some cases, anger.

"We will _kill_ that man!" Elrohir and Elladan screeched at the same time. "He won't live another second after we find him!"

"Legolas already killed him," Thranduil said. "What we need to do is stop the poison somehow."

"Aye!" Gimli agreed. "Lord Elrond, is there any cure to this poison?"

"Not that I know of," Elrond said. "But there may be one. We should look."

The others all agreed heartily.

"No prince of Greenwood will die on our watch!" Aragorn said, standing up. "Legolas shall live!"

"Yes!" the rest of them, other than Glorfindel replied. The blonde elven lord didn't lift his head, and Elrond went over to him, as did his sons.

"Glorfindel? What's wrong? We'll find a cure, and Legolas will live!" Elrohir said.

"There is still ample reasons for him not to," Glorfindel said. "Even if you find an antidote, he may still fade from grief, or sail. Just like they did…" he put his head back in his hand and ignored all the comforting words that surrounded him.

Elrond sighed, realizing that there was no way to help Glorfindel. "Come on, everyone," he said, standing up. "Let's go see if Legolas has woken up."

_A/N: Hello! Sorry, this was a bit of a filler chapter. But the next one will have lots of drama!_

_REVIEWS ARE AWESOME AND SWAG AND IF YOU DON'T REVIEW YOU AIN'T GOT ANY!_

_JK._

_BUT STILL, REVIEW, GUYZ._


	20. Love

_A/N: Sorry for the long time no update! I've been pretty busy._

_Woohoo! We've reached chapter 20. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed: you guys are the reason I write!_

_I've been thinking about this chapter for a very, very long time. Lots of drama and Legolas-angst (Yay!) is planned!_

_Chapter 20_

Legolas had woken up a few minutes before the large group entered, and his eyes had snapped open. He reached up to touch his aching forehead with one hand. Touching the head of a killer felt so different than touching the head of a blameless young elf.

The door creaked open, but he didn't turn to it. He kept his hand still where it rested on his slowly heating head, and his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling despite the haze over them.

"Ah, Legolas! You're awake," said Gimli, who entered first. The wounds on his lower back cried out.

_He will hurt you!_ They said. _He will make you go through all of this again! He hates you!_

Legolas shivered and shied away as the dwarf came closer. Eventually realizing the elf's need for space, Gimli backed up to a respectable distance from the bed.

"How are you feeling, Legolas?" Elrond asked, looking at the elf in concern. He moved Legolas's hand from his head, and despite the fact that it made the younger elf cringe, he put his hand against the pale forehead.

"He's burning up," he said, worry shining in his eyes. "We need to find the antitode quickly."

He put the sphere and vial down carefully on the bedside table, and he began to wet a cool cloth. He placed it gently on Legolas's forehead, and he smiled down at him.

"Alright, Legolas," he said. "We're going to go and find a cure to what ails you. Stay here, and try to get some sleep, penneth."

The others mumbles their goodbyes and filed out of the room. They were about halfway down the hall when Elrond turned abruptly.

"I forgot the sphere and the vial in the room," he said. "Could someone go get it?"

Thranduil volunteered. He began to make his way back to the room with quick, soft footsteps. He opened the door, and he spoke softly.

"I'm sorry, Legolas, I know you want to be left alone, but—"

He stopped suddenly when he saw Legolas. There were tears running down his face, and he was holding the sphere above his head, poised to throw it at the hard, unforgiving ground. It left his hand and began its decent.

"NO!" Thranduil screamed. If that ball hit the ground, his son would die. He just knew it. He dived, his robes getting splinters in them from the floorboards, and he reached out with his hand as far as he could.

It touched his fingertips and bounced up again. He threw himself even further on the ground, barely managing to catch the ball in his right hand. It felt cool, not at all as evil or problem-creating as it had proven itself to be.

He lay panting for a few seconds, and the rest of the group, having heard his scream, rushed into the room.

"Thranduil, are you all right?" asked Aragorn. He reached out to help the elvenking to get up, but Thranduil ignored the hand that was offered to him and stood up by himself. He rushed to Legolas's side.

"Legolas, why would you…" he said, looking at his sobbing son in disbelief. "We're trying to help—"

"WHAT IF I DON'T WANT YOUR HELP?!" Legolas screamed, his first words since entering Rivendell echoing in the small room. "What if I don't want to be here anymore? What if I know you hate me and you aren't trying to help me and you are just making fun of my pain? What if I am ready to stop trying to endure this agony?" he paused, before saying the one thing that had plagued his mind for so long.

"What if I deserve to die?"

The quiet words broke the hearts of everyone in the room.

"Why would you deserve to die, Legolas?" Thranduil asked, reaching out to hold his son's hand. Legolas tried to squirm away, but his father wouldn't let him.

"I killed her, Ada," he said quietly.

"No you didn't—"

"How would you know? You weren't there, and you can't feel the hatred that she sends through our bond every waking minute!" Legolas said, looking up at the ceiling, his tears flowing freely.

Thranduil closed his eyes and reached for the bond that he shared with his son. When he found his son's mind he entered it, and was immediately filled with a myriad of emotions and images that were so out of control he was almost washed away by them. He began to make his way to the corner of it that was shadowed with grief, doubt, and hatred. He touched it. It felt fake.

He wiped at the dark veil with his hand, and the blackness came off of it and he began to see a beautiful golden light shining through. He continued to wipe away the darkness, eventually exposing the real thing: a glowing golden area of Legolas's mind that proved to him that his mother still loved him and cared for him, no matter what.

He slowly exited Legolas's mind and came back into the real world. Legolas had tears running down his cheeks, and his hand was clutching at his heart, which was filled with a sudden, new light. Though it was small, it lit up the rest of his darkened heart.

"She loves me…" he whispered. "She still loves me…"

As Legolas began to cry again, Thranduil wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him close. Legolas closed his eyes and reveled in the warmth of the body holding him.

"Of course she does, ion-nin," Thranduil murmured soothingly. "Your nana and I both love you very much."

"I love you too, Ada," Legolas mumbled into his father's robes. "I love you, too."

_A/N: Aw, yay!_

_But the story's not over yet (dun dun dun!)_


End file.
